Break-up & Consequences
by elsac2
Summary: as far as her knowledge of break-up and their consequences went, Michonne doubted a baby and father of said baby were included. therefore, how did she end up in this situation? Richonne fic
1. Chapter 1

**I had the idea of a little semi fluff and semi angst fic. It should be short about 7 to 8 chapters.**

 **I don't own the walking dead**

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 **Prologue: airport break-up & consequences**

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Rows of empty chairs stare back at Rick. Last calls for late passengers clash with airport's announcements. The room shrinks around Rick Grimes. The young man calls his fiancé, but he can't reach her. There is the word departed next to her flight number. Out of rage, Rick throws his phone to the floor.

His rage is part of the problem in addition to the secrecy. Rick does not know what he needs to do. Tears fill the inner corner of his eyes. With his thumb, he tries to wipe them as they fall. Fazed and lost, Rick stands in the middle of the airport. People fill the place and parade around a frozen Rick.

Michonne left, and He lost the love of a lifetime. Despite the pain, he deserves to lose her. He cannot erase her presence from his mind.

Three thousand six hundred seconds, sixty minutes, or an hour too late, which is the reason why Rick mourns his loss.

The tears are cold on his burning skin, and his sobs threaten to break his lung airflow. Rick's thoughts are successive ramblings. There is a mixture of reason and illogicalness. Ultimately, Rick lost the most amazing woman to grace the earth. Michonne is his peace and sweet angel.

Her love is no longer enough, but she tried to stand by him. However, he is a danger to everyone, and she cannot just be a bystander while he ruins his life and reputation. With time, Rick ceased being the man who deserves her. When Michonne tried to help him, he should have listened. Now, He admits his lacunas. The shock of her departure clears the fog, which covered his mind. Pain renders Rick wiser, and the reason can emerge to the surface.

Rick cannot live without Michonne, and Michonne cannot live without him. Yet she chooses to live a life of loneliness. Their relationship cannot continue. Together, they are destructive. Rick and Michonne's relationship is a conundrum.

Every time they argue, Rick pushes Michonne beyond her mental limits. In the end, love no longer matter. He broke the promises, which he made to her. A woman like Michonne can't tolerate the hypocrisy of his world.

The drug, the alcohol, and the parties, he would have stopped or hidden it better. Rick tumbles backwards and sits down. He stares at travellers in a hurry. Michonne's voice echoes around him. His tears are dry, and his heart stops to beat. An hour is what he needed, just an hour to beg. How long will it take before he self-destroys without her? He was already on that path anyway.

Their short separation helped her, but it did not help Rick. It will take no time before numbness invades his mind, and alcohol may help to fasten the process. Alcoholism, the drug abuse, and so much more. She claims that he has a problem, but Rick can't see it. In a professional setting, he uses all type of things to enhance his performance or just to numb his nerve. Rick is a trader, and the job comes with some toxic practices. He is young and reckless, though too reckless for the woman he loves. After his second overdose, Michonne no longer knows what to do.

Rick does not want her to struggle, but he is selfish. He needs her, but she does not need him. Rick isn't oblivious to the hurt, and often he asks too much of Michonne. Despite his flaws, he loves her. It used to justify everything and earn her forgiveness. Now, his love is a pitiable excuse of what it used to be. Michonne is better without him.

….

….

….

…

Rick senses someone sitting by his side, and he wants to ask him or her to leave. However, he is too exhausted to care. Dreadlocks tingle his skin. He opens his eyes to stare at a curtain of dreadlocks. Michonne's head leans on Rick's shoulder.

For a minute, the young man is silent, and he does not know what to say nor which God to thank. His glistening blue eyes filled with tears take a long time to find her warm brown ones. Ultimately, he stares at the brown of her eyes, and Rick recovers his senses. The love of his life is here with him, in this empty airport.

"You're late." The words reshape her beautiful lips.

Rick has never been happier to hear her. Michonne sounds so calm. Despite her calming presence, Rick's agitation doesn't decrease. Her eyes never leave him, and she places her hand on top of his.

His fingers slide between her slender ones. Her touch is a comforting home. Tonight, he needs to hold her finger as a reminder that she is real. Michonne pulls her luggage to the side, and Rick looks at the offending object.

"You're still here, are you sweetheart?" Rick replies with empty arrogance.

The trader does not feel as confident as he sounds. His question disguises other fears. Michonne nods as an answer. He is thankful that she is still here with him. Rick kisses her to silence his commanding heart and his fears. He takes away her air, and Michonne melts under his touch. A little tear forms in the corner of her eyes. It starts rolling on her cheek and breaks on Rick's cupid bow. When the tear wets his skin, Rick knows something is wrong.

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"I knew you will be late…" Michonne speaks when Rick's lips free her lips.

With trembling hands, she wipes the new tears and cleans any trace of previous tears. Michonne needs to be brave and calm her dithering nerves. The young woman squeezes his hand. She allows Rick's warmth to help her during this hardship. He needs to know, and she needs to understand their relationship.

"You're always late. Remember, I know everything about you. I waited so long." Three years, she does not mention it, but she waited three long years.

Nothing changed, and the situation deteriorated. They spent many nights arguing and some mornings too. Three years during which Rick found many ways to destroy his physical health and her sanity. A slow eternity spent in hell is incomparable to those three years.

"You must be tired to always wait for me?" Rick asks with a lot of concern.

The sentence means more than what his words translate. She knows what he attempts to ask.

It is exhausting to wait for a better version on me. It is exhausting to hope I can outgrow the only lifestyle I know. It is exhausting to wait for this love. It is a one-way ticket to a hell and brings out the worse in us. It is exhausting to love me.

Despite lacking the right words, the meaning of his statement is clear. Michonne's lips wear a bittersweet smile, and her hand continues to squeeze his hand. She moves her head and presses her lips to his neck. Rick sighs, yet he is grateful for a touch of comfort.

"I have tried …" Michonne hesitates, and the loudness of her voice fluctuates. The words are soft whispers, which Rick cannot hear.

"Holding your hand… I tried. Please, tell me you know I did." After few encouraging caresses, she regains the courage to express herself.

Michonne knows that somehow he has reached the same conclusion. She wants to say so much more, but he understands.

"It's all end here sweetheart, and you did more than trying," with unadulterated fragility to his voice, Rick answers.

Ultimately, he receives the answers to his silent questions. Rick's hands frame Michonne's face. With his thumbs, he tenderly tries to wipe away every single tear pouring out her loving brown eyes. She kisses the centre of his palm. Michonne places her hand above one of his hand, and her fingers intertwine with his. She drags their joint hands away from her cheeks. She wants to memorize the sensation of his touch.

Michonne's head rests on his shoulder, and she has an iron grip on his arm. She is silent longer than needed, and the young woman thinks about a safe topic. At one point in time, the man by her side was her best friend, and every topic was safe. It was a slow destruction. When she met Rick, he had a better ability to hide his problems. When they started to leave together, she began to notice them. She tried to fix everything. Desperately, she tried to fix him. However, if they do not desire to improve, people are unfixable.

Michonne tries to protect herself from a heartbreak, and she struggles while she is shattering Rick's heart. Perhaps, she is unable to go through with it.

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"Is it… Is it really ending? How do we end us? Rick, where do we start? I was so set to leave, but you were late." She cries on his shoulder, and she is unable the end of their love.

Michonne cannot imagine a minute without him. Rick is the only man, who she has known and loved. He is everything to her. He will always be everything to her. Therefore, how can she imagine the end of such consuming love?

"I am so sorry … I am sorry for coming here, and I am sorry for failing at loving you." Rick does what he was supposed to do long ago.

He cannot breathe while his words encourage her to end their relationship. It is a fight of character, but he has to do it. Michonne will never break the circle. She is admirably loyal, and he has overexploited her beautiful soul.

"You need to go. If you stay, nothing will change. I will be the same, but I don't know who you're going to be, Chonne." Rick can no longer ignore the truth.

He witnessed how much Michonne changed over the years. Her smile no longer illuminates a room, and worries have eaten from inside.

"you're always late…" she repeats herself.

Perhaps, he is also late in the personal growth process. A few more days to wait or a year does, it matter? Now, their break up is tangible, and she cannot survive the shattering pain. Michonne cannot leave the love of her life. Although, it means endangering herself. His constant anger and the lack of control. What happens if the next time, she is a victim of his temper flaring? How will she survive the day when he does not make it out of the intensive care unit? She loves him so much. Perhaps, she enables some of his behaviours for this reason.

"I booked the last flight of the day, so I could see you and talk to you. It never mattered. Nothing mattered more than loving you…" Her throat constricts, and she can't speak.

The sobs modify her speech ability. Awkward sounds swallow her words. She takes his face in her palms, and she stares into the blue of his eyes. She wants him to understand why she needs to leave.

"I won't survive more unfulfilled promises. I will not survive the lies about your sobriety. Another call will disrupt my world. How many times can I sit on your dying side? I tried Rick…"

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"Tell me to stay. Lie to me and promise me that you will change. I will wait." Tears and a different fire brighten the brown of Michonne eyes.

each of her words makes a heart-breaking her plea. Michonne cannot leave, and she cannot let go of Rick. Once again, it stopped to matter, and her unselfish love controls her reason.

"I would love to lie, sweetheart. What do you want to hear? We've so many hours before you leave. Do you remember the children we wanted? Curly black hair and mischievous blue eyes. As pretty as their mama. Chonne, I can lie if you want me too, but you won't have the life you want with me." Rick says sincerely, and he admits his failure.

Michonne shakes her head. All she wants to hear is that he is not allowing her to leave.

"We can talk about the crazy sex that we're going to have inside the airport toilets?" He winks, and she tries to smile.

"All I want is you, and it does not matter how. I can't do it, babe. That was not why I waited, and you can't just decide to switch roles. Tell me to stay because you need me to stay." She orders him to ask her to stay.

She has her forehead pressed to his forehead, and she is stealing his air. With Her eyes tightly shut, Michonne refuses to look at him while he casts her away.

"You want me but Chonne, you don't need me." Rick kisses her, and so he can silence her protest.

He will love her until his life ends, and he hoped it would end with her by his side. Sharing his twisted life and universe, but she needs to leave while she can. He understands it now. It is unavoidable.

Rick removes the neckless that he always wears and places on it Michonne's engagement ring, which he pulls from her finger. He looks at her with a smile on his lips. Rick stand and pulls her away from her seat, and so he can make right by the last promise that he made to her. Michonne does not resist.

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Michonne's fingers carry a different meaning. In the narrow cabin, there is no space between their naked skins, yet they can't feel close enough. Rick's lips are voraciously devouring the curve of her neck. He presses hot open-mouth kisses on her pulse.

His teeth graze her shivering skin and travel until her plump lower lip. Rick's lips aggressively recover hers, and the strokes of his tongue demand more of her. They are both famished.

Michonne matches his passion, and her languishment pours out into her caresses. Eager to free his skin, she pulls on his shirt, and he accidentally presses her against the hard wall. Her back roughly hits the wall, but she cannot feel the sharp pain travelling her spine.

Rick's hand travels from her breast to the opening of her skirt. It snakes its way around the hot flesh of her tights. His fingers linger on her soft skin, and they reverently caress every inch of her skin. She moans in his mouth while her hand claws on his bare back. She has an iron grip on his curls. Rick presses his salient muscles to her body, and she melts into his embrace. Her body begs for air, but she refuses to relinquish the pleasurable taste of his mouth. Her lips devour his eagerly due to the tormenting thought of future losses.

Michonne only breathes when Rick breaks their kiss. He stares at her and feeds his mind with her beauty. The young man wants to remember her through their years as she is now. He wants the memory of her skin shivering under his touch, and her eyes darkening due to a powerful need to have him.

When her mouth collides with the softness of his neck, Michonne stops Rick's contemplation. Her tongue darts out to lick his skin. He groans and lifts her, and so she can wrap her leg around his hips.

Rick's fingers quickly encounter the heat between her legs. He slowly opens her slit and slides a finger inside her. Her core welcomes the invasion, and Michonne's wetness drenches his finger. She moans against his skin. His lips move from her erected nipple to her mouth, and so he silences her moans.

Michonne is too loud for a public place. She kisses him with sensuality and suaveness. Her tongue lazily plays with his. She nips his bottom lip, and he slides another finger into her vagina. She loses herself to his tender touch.

The young woman feverishly unbuckles Rick's pants, and she starts to grind her pelvis against his hard dick. Rick removes his fingers and places his erected manhood at the entrance of her labia. With a lazy stroke, he enters her. Michonne bites his shoulder, and her core grips on his engorged flesh.

Rick thrusts harder with complete abandon, and her cries grow louder and hoarse. The idea that anyone may catch them fuels their passion. Her nails are drawing patterns on her back, and her hot breath warms his skin. He thrusts multiple times, and she almost reaches her climax with each of the perfectly timed strokes. Her grip on him is tighter than it has ever been. He drives her to unknown edges, and the knowledge of future separation inflames their coupling.

Michonne's mouth is everywhere on Rick's skin. His lips and tongue pleasure the burning skin around her hard nipple. She breathes in his scent, and she can let go of his skin. Soon tears form in the corner of her eyes. The cold tears fall on his shoulder and wet his heated skin. if it means breaking apart, she refuses to climax.

His dick strokes are more aggressive, and Michonne can no longer withhold her orgasm. She loses to his dedication to rearrange her inside. She comes all over his member. She starts to shed tears. Rick does not pull his manhood out of her. He kisses her until the first wave of tears ends.

"I love you." She succeeds to say after the last hiccup. They take a long time to dress up. The couple leaves the bathroom and retakes their seat. An entire hour passes before Michonne finds her words. She asks to hear about their imaginary children. She wants him to distract her. Rick is more collected than she is.

"I will be their favourite parent, they will pay you dust. Two boys and a girl, my princess." He says to her, and Michonne has a dreamy look trying to portray such family.

Michonne caresses her belly absentmindedly, and He laughs at the seriousness on her face. Rick's laugh becomes contagious. It is a fluttering moment of happiness, and so abnormal when they are both aware the epilogue of their days.

They call for the boarding her flight, and this time Michonne has no choice. Rick help her out of her seat. It is the hardest thing that he has ever done in his life. Worried that he may lose his resolve, He refuses to look at her brown eyes, but she takes his face between her palms. They stare at each other with a silent agreement. It is the best for Michonne.

"I love you," he says for the last time and kisses her.

Michonne grabs his shirt so tightly. Consequently, he has to apply a light pressure to remove her fingers. Rick steps back so she can enter the boarding area. The young can't unglue her feet from the ground. Twenty minutes later, her plane takes off with her inside, and Rick stays two more hours in a now full airport.

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 **Rome 4 months after the break up.**

Paris was overrated and not a good city for new beginnings, Michonne learned it four months ago. The first things, which greeted her in the city of lights, were a gloomy sky and very unhelpful locals. She tried to live there a week, but Paris was not a city for her. Therefore, she bought a ticket for a sunnier destination, Barcelona. Michonne ended up disliking the city too because they were too many tourists, and that was how she ended up in Rome.

Four months in Rome, everything was perfect until this very awkward moment. Michonne wishes the floor would swallow her. She is so embarrassed. She draws a deep breath but it was the wrong thing to do. The street is crowded, and all the scents in the air assault her sensible nose. The brewed dark coffee, the dry smell tobacco on her date's skin, and the dusty scents associated with the inconvenience of living in a busy area. Michonne stomach churns, and bitterness recovers her salivating tongue as a warning.

She cannot do much about it, and her inside twists dramatically at every scent. For a second time in the night, Michonne senses the build-up of vomit. Although her hand covers her mouth, it isn't enough. Green contents spill out of her mouth and splash her date.

Once is not embarrassing enough, she has to vomit on the poor man a second time. Fortunately, this time, she aimed for his shoes. Once she looks at his shirt, it is a different story.

"I'm so sorry Mike…" Michonne put an embarrassed hand on her mouth.

The taste on her tongue announces that another round is coming. Therefore, she does not finish her sentence and starts running to her apartment's door. Mike, her date for the night, looks at her with a mixture of worry and relief. To see if everything his right, He follows her into her apartment

"Now, Chonne, you're visibly sick. The best thing I can do is to help. Perhaps, something to clean this." He asks politely.

Vomiting was not enough, and Michonne has to humiliate herself more. She feels the saline in her mouth and nose beforehand. Mike sweetness makes her sensitive. Tears start pouring, and she profusely apologizes for her exuberance. Michonne is turning into a sort of hormonal and systemic mess. The genuine observation opens the box of Pandora.

Michonne draws a deep breath, and this time, she has a better reaction to the aroma-saturated air. She does not like the speed of her sudden recovery.

"Please wait here. Can I have your shirt and shoes, please? If you want to shower there is a guest bathroom." She struggles to smile because her mind speeds to a conclusion about her health. Her smile comes out as a grimace.

"I will just take a wet towel, and be on my way." When she hears the statement, Michonne breathes out such a happy sigh, and now she needs to apologize.

She walks into her bathroom and comes back with a small wet hot towel.

"I… I am really sorry." She presses the towel in his hands, and her date only smiles as an answer.

It makes her feel worse. He is being too kind to her, and she threw up on his shirt and shoes. Michonne starts feeling guilty, and the tears threaten to fall again.

"Don't be this is a great story to tell." Mike kisses her cheek once he finishes cleaning his face, and he walks out of her apartment.

As soon as he leaves, Michonne needs to appease her agitated mind. She picks her phone and runs through her applications. Why did it take her three months to start worrying about her lack of menstruation? First, she blamed it on the environmental change. Now in the pit of her stomach, no pun intended, she knows better.

 _Freaking pregnant, FREAKING PREGNANT._ She reads on the stick two minutes after she freshly peed on it. She remembers the stupid joke Rick made in the airport, and she starts crying. She can't blame it on the hormones. She left a complicated situation to enter into another one. She has no real choice in keeping the baby. After her first clinical visit, she discovers that she has been carrying a child for four months. It is too advanced for an abortion.

Michonne Barnes, twenty-five years old, and pregnant with her ex-fiancé's baby. Can it get worse?

 **PLease review**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews. Thanks for following and adding to your favourites.**

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 **Chapter I: Break-up and… sobriety.**

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 **A week after the break-up.**

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From his high up office, Rick observes the chaos, which wrecks his entire firm. Voices rise, and people throw numbers left and right. Money evaporates rapidly. The NASDAQ is plummeting and with it, many investments too. As one of the top dogs, these losses are Rick's direct concern. Losses appear to be constant in his life. The trader never made so many poor calculations in months, and he knows the reason why.

Slowly, stress builds up while Rick's eyes glance at the board, and the values plunge exponentially. He holds multiple files in his hands and tries to peruse each of them. He searches for the wrong numbers but appears to be unable to find any. More losses and more money disappear into thin air. It is a matter of time before the phone starts to ring. As in cue, the red line goes on, and he places the call in speakers. A client abandons the sinking ship with the new financial loss.

Furious, Rick pushes away the files. He cannot find the answer to his problems because his senses are not sharp. He cannot read the number as well as he usually does. He is exhausted from the lack of sleep, and forty hours sleepless will do that to anyone. Although, he isn't anyone. The young man is Rick Grimes, thirty years old finance prodigy. The anomaly in the trading world, he made it to the top too fast. However, Rick understands the numbers and as the advantage to fit in the social circle. Today, he is a shadow of the brilliant trader.

Blue eyes stare at the market, which continues to bring low numbers. Fury bubbles under the surface, and it is the beginning of his anxiety. Rick hardly tolerates pressure, but his job is a succession of stressful events. Lives and futures depend on choices, which he makes. Managing a cooperation is draining. He regrets a time where he was with the boys down. His shoulders are too frail for this high up's pressure

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For an endless period, Rick stares at a pile of papers. The numbers swerve, and he has a poor focus. His concentration is too poor to match his job's demand. He tries resisting to the tempting call.

Since she left, Rick tries to stay sober. Consequently, he had a complex week. From the poor professional performances to the unexpected physical responses, obstacles bar his way to sobriety.

For a week, Rick didn't use any sort of substances.

When he is sober, the trading mayhem is terrifying. He has not slept for two days. Generally, the lack of sleep is not a problem. The young man has spent entire weeks awake, but the substances help to accomplish such performance.

The job is Rick's pride, and he needs to be at his best. When he experiences withdrawal symptoms, it is impossible. An entire week spent without any drug. On the last days, Tremors and splitting headaches replace nausea and drowsiness. Pearls of Sweat recover Rick's forehead. He feels sick, and the situation terrifies him. His vision blurs out of focus. The numbers, which he tried to read for hours, disappear. His panic increases tenfold. From downstairs, shouts erupt.

His phone starts to ring, and he knows what the caller wants. Another loss, more money is flying out by the window. His heart rate is rapid. Rick needs to sleep. Although, he cannot because he must handle a financial cataclysm. Rapidly, His brain shuts down, and his body starts to do the same. Rick feels faint. It evolves from a blurry vision to a transient blindness. Suddenly, the lights are not vibrant.

Rick needs to sit down, but his disorientation stops him from finding his desk. Rick needs to breathe, but stress closes his airways. He starts to pace back and forth, but his legs are painful. His anger morphs into raging fury. At the glass windows, which forms his office's walls, he throws an antique vase. No one flinches because the outbursts of anger are usual to the traders. Rick tries again to take a deep breath, but it worsens his state. Consequently, He is nauseous.

The phone continues to ring. Soon, his cell phone joins the cacophony. People from down shout their losses. His head buzzes. It feels as if there is a crack in his skulls. Ultimately, He experiences deafness. His eyes are in and out of focus. His legs shake, and tremors overtake his body. Downstairs' chaos reaches his office.

The phone rings. Constantly, his cell phone buzzes. Now, someone knocks at his door. They need the numbers. They need him to do his job. He cannot crawl at the door.

"Give me a minute. I need to review the algorithm." His voice trembles while he tries to save time.

"We don't have the day, Grimes." A frustrated voice fills Rick's office.

The pressure accumulates, and it worsens his stress. This is his professional reality. He loves his job, but it is demanding. He isn't built to sustain sleepless week, no one is. However, there are ways to cheat. Everyone around Rick does the same. A pill here and another there. The practices come with consequence. However, they do not have the day.

"Give me a fucking minute, Walsh. Do you want your numbers to be accurate or do you just need the numbers?" Rick attempts to buy time.

"I want my numbers to accurate and fast, or you can kiss this beautiful office goodbye. Twenty minutes. If the clients continue to jump out of the ship, we will have to file for bankruptcy." Shane Walsh, who is a senior in the cooperation, answers unimpressed.

Rick knows every word is true. Trading is precarious, and one has to be ready to make sacrifices. The noises threaten to destroy his eardrum. His headache dismembers his brain, and Rick cannot stand on his leg because his body needs a fixture.

"Alright…Alright." He subdues to the pressure and half-crawls to his desk.

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….

…..

"I am sorry alright… I tried." Shamefully, Rick places Michonne's picture into the drawer, which is attached to his desk.

He imagines the judgement in her eyes, and he hears their past argument. The drugs are not for recreational purposes. He is not an addict, but he is dependent. There are two different psychologic levels, and so the young man claims. Now, it does not matter. After losing Michonne, He tried to stop. Although, it is in vain because Michonne has left. It is too late for a change, which he doesn't want for himself. He lost his love, and losing his job will be stupid.

Rick has a defective morality. When he is desperate, he chooses unwisely. He wishes that he could be the man that she led him to believe he was. However, he is the man who drove her away, and that man has his job for comforts.

Rick clasped his hands together while he prays the tremors would not intensify. He tries to swallow the thick amount of saliva, but his glands never stop producing more. It is his first withdrawal episode. After his vision returns, the young man rushes to the bathroom. He stares at the clear mirror.

After inspecting the booths, he stares at the clear mirror. Rick looks at his tired reflection. The bright white lights are aggressive to his exhausted pupils. The dark circles under his eyes are preeminent. The long-lasting nausea is hard to tolerate, and the excess of bitter saliva is terrible. His body begs for the substance.

"Fuck this." He shouts while his fist collides with the bathroom's wall.

His temper is a thing, which he can no longer control. Another reason behind why Michonne left. His hand throbs and the pain extends from his fingers to his forearm. The pain is a good thing because it distracts the mind. It is a fixture for a short minute. but he has the time to decide productively. Furious, He wipes the tears before they fall from his eyes. Rick takes a deep breath, but breathing does not help. The air, which fills his throat, causes his nausea.

He can't suffer through the burning sensation. When he leans forward, clear contents pour out of his mouth and fill the sink. He has not eaten in days because he cannot tolerate any solid food in his state. He is tired and the pain is insufferable. It does not beneficiate him to continue this self-punishment. It is not bringing Michonne back, and he knows it.

Desperately, Rick searches his pocket. He must have carried it. Forcefully, His hands look for his pills container. He becomes desperate with each passing second, and then he finds the transparent yellow box. He is relieved and takes three pills. Once he finishes, the trader throws the drug container against the wall. With regrets and exhaustion, Rick sits on the dirty ground. He doesn't care for his designer clothes. He stared at nothing in particular while he falls back into this infernal circle of addiction.

Ultimately, he stands and walks back to the sink. Rick splashes water on his face. He considers taking more pills because the tremors have yet to stop. However, he does not take more. To work, He needs lucidity. He walks into a little toilet cabin and closes the door. When open spaces stress him, he seeks small spaces to indulge in his deepest fears. He sits on the toilet siege, and he brings his hands to his wet face. Tears fall without any restraint. Like a fearful child, Rick sobs. With each tear, his insecurities pour out his soul. For Michonne, He tried to fight his addiction.

* * *

 **Present.**

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 **...**

Michonne sought a reason to return to Rick. The four months without him were difficult and lonely. When she discovered that she was pregnant, she rushed to buy a plane ticket. Although, she changed her mind and never used it.

Despite many incentives, she senses her growing child will not be in a secure environment around Rick. Rick prioritizes his work over everything. His job comes before his own health and his relationship. The drug and alcohol abuses started because he wanted to be the best. Why would it be different with a child? She came second to a job, which destroyed him from inside. Her child would not live in such hell.

She avoided calling for two months. Now she is six months pregnant with a swollen belly and strong guilt. She hasn't told anyone. Her best friend, Sasha doesn't know. Michonne doesn't hide anything from her. However, she can't risk Rick knowing about the pregnancy. As the day of her delivery is closer, the weight of secrecy crushes her shoulder.

For the past five hours, Michonne has stared at her phone because she can't hide it anymore.

The young woman considered the pro and cons. What is she supposed to say? Does she want to say something? She is not ready to tell him, but she does not want to experience a wonderful miracle alone.

Yesterday, she had a prenatal visit. It was a beautiful moment in her life, but it was incomplete. The baby is a boy, and she knows Rick will adore him. Rick will not forgive her. They spent many hours fantasizing about a future with children. However, her strongest argument in favour of calling Rick is also the reason why she should not allow him around, their child.

Michonne takes a deep breath, and she presses Rick's number. It takes time and multiple calls to reach him. He is always busy. She waits for him to pick up. She works the nerve to explain the situation. She coaches herself to stay strong.

"Rick Grimes." She hears the hesitation in his voice.

He doesn't recognize the unknown number.

Michonne can't breathe. Her reaction to Rick is visceral. Listening to his voice causes an impairment of her heart rate. She missed the huskiness of his voice and the drawl he adds on every word. Her brain has frozen in its eagerness to bask in familiar comfort.

For a minute, she just breathes while her worlds spin out of orbits. The last thing she wants is to sound like a creepy character in a horror movie. The young woman recovers the phone with her hand. She encourages herself with many positive thoughts. To strengthen her mind, Michonne picks the ultrasound Polaroids. She stares at the image of a burgeoning life.

"Hello?" He insists and expects an answer.

Michonne holds on the sound of his voice like a lifeline. When she is about to start speaking, Risk giggles. It is an abnormal reaction, and Rick Grimes does not giggle unless if he is intoxicated. Michonne hears the noise, which surrounds him. She recognizes some trendy songs. He is at a party, and it equates to abuse of alcohol. Familiar sentiments overwhelm her. How many of those calls did she pass?

"You just don't care who it hurts as long as you get high…" the words leave her lips from habit, and she intends to say more.

Although, she stops when she notices that she is falling into old habits. She said those words many times. Michonne glances at her swollen stomach. Life is cynical, and her baby chooses that moment to give his first kick. Involuntary with his shenanigans, Rick ruined such a pure moment.

"Hello, what did you say?" She hears him say, and she does not know where to start.

Accordingly, Michonne chooses to privilege her health and sanity. The baby is the priority. She will only tell him when she can resist any pressure from him. She hangs up and calls her best friend instead. The young woman needs some sort of support.

"I'm pregnant...and I'm alone. I don't know what to do" Michonne blurts out as soon as Sasha answers.

"Breathe, Michonne."

* * *

 **35th week of her pregnancy.**

 **..**

 **...**

Michonne can no longer keep the secret, and she is due to deliver in the next two weeks. After considering all her option, she admits to herself that Rick needed to know. The young woman gazes at the window, and it was drizzling. The weather matches her general mood. She is happy that the winters are not harsh in Italy.

She picks up her phone, and she sighs. She can't postpone eternally. Rick picks faster than she expects him to.

"This is definitely the wrong time to call, but go ahead." Rick opening statement chills her.

Michonne is silent for a minute. Although, she glances at her clock. It is almost dawn where he lives.

"Breathing doesn't register as a conversation." Sarcastically, he adds when she has yet to say anything.

It is surprising that he has not hung up. When he is tipsy, Rick is of a generous nature. Although with every passing second, his annoyance increases. Michonne sighs exasperatedly. She did not only call him late, but he is drunk and sleep-deprived. The young woman recognizes the edge of drunkenness in Rick's voice.

"I will call later Rick." She says softly.

There is a minute of relief. She claims to be strong, but Michonne is not ready to deal with Rick. Two weeks to her delivery, she is afraid. She wants a reminder of her home. A place of safety and Home will always be Rick. His voice, his touch, and everything, which makes her, love him.

"Michonne…" He questions with a voice brought to life by hope.

Awkwardly, Michonne nods as if he can see her. She does not know how to react appropriately. Almost nine months since she heard her name said so reverently. Her hands roam over her belly. There are little kicks, and their son is excited. She smiles when a little hand pushes against her belly.

"No, you won't call back tomorrow. Remember we aren't doing this. Moment of weakness right?" He sounds as if he knows everything.

A laugh filled with bitterness creeps out of his belly. Rick knows too much about moments of weakness. Those days when he contacts Sasha and begs for Michonne's new number. The night when he misses her so much, and the morning when her laughs echo in every empty room of the apartment, which they used to share.

"I have been doing well with my moments of weakness. At least, I am not drinking myself into the next day." She says softly, and he answers her with a snort.

"Is that why you're calling? Sasha snitched on me, and I already told Daryl…" The sound of her crying interrupts the beginning of his tirade.

…

….

….

Rick sucks the oppressive warm air and sighs. Nine months without any contact and the first thing he does is to make her cry. It is enough to sober up. He sits up straight, and he faces the awakening city. He lights a cigarette and fights to retrieve a semblance of sobriety. Rick pocks his mind for the right words, but he attempts to do the noble thing.

"we're trying to avoid this when you left. Less than a minute in this conversation and you're in tears. I ain't your cross to carry. Now, it was nice talking to you, but this thang doesn't work, babe." Rick assumes rudeness and harsh truths will kill her expectations.

The young man tries to keep his promise to protect her, and he understands himself well. He knows what will happen if they start a conversation. Rick will start begging, and she may resist for an hour. Ultimately, he will wear her off. How many times have they been in similar situation? She chose to put an ocean between them to avoid this.

Rick takes a deep breath. Nostalgia is the last thing he wants to indulge in, and he dislikes not having what he wants. The trader hates languishment. This call will open those doors. It will fuel the wrong sentiments.

"I'm not crying because of you. No, it's what you said also the hormones. This call is the hardest thing I have to do…" Rick interrupts her before she tells him more.

"Masochism has never been one of your kinks. Trust me I know too well what you like in bed." Old habits come back strong.

Embarrassed, he shakes his head for allowing the sentence to escape the crevice of his mind. Perhaps, it will infuriate her and lead to the end of the conversation. She will probably scold him, but he hears her laugh at his inappropriate joke. The warm and exuberant laugh, which he adores. In a second, she reminds him the reason why she is his best friend.

"Now, Chonne should I worry about you? From tears to laughs in a second." He taunts her, and she snorted.

If he only knew half of it, she hears him walking around the apartment.

"I can only keep it a secret this long, and I'm pregnant..." She can't add more, Rick hangs up on her.

Completely surprised by his reaction, Michonne freezes. She stares at her phone. What does she do next? Is she supposed to call back or accept his abrupt rejection? She does not have to choose between her options. Rick needs a minute. He lost his grip on his emotions, and so he walks to his bathroom. He fills the tub with cold water and plunges his head until he senses the alcohol dissipate from his bloodstream.

Shaking with apprehension and unadulterated excitement, Rick calls Michonne. She answers with an anxious heart, and now she expects his sober reaction.

….

….

…..

"That's nine months." Rick has no doubt on who is the father.

He drags his wet palm on his pant and stares at the city, which returns to life slowly.

"Fuck you're about to give birth." Sudden panic invades him, and he worries about Michonne.

After processing the news, there is a mixture of confusion and anger. Nine months of silence Radio. Rick needs answers, and he does not hesitate to ask the hard questions.

"Is there an explanation on why I am just finding out? Why aren't you back?" He maintains a neutral tone and controls his frustration.

The last thing that he wants is to induce her labour with a steady argument. Accordingly, he swallows his emotions for her benefits. Rick takes a deep breath, and he tries to massage away the headache.

"I didn't want to tell you and..." She does not think it is appropriate to expand on their past.

Michonne stops before she says hurtful truths.

"Have you tried to fly while pregnant, and whales are not meant to fly." She does not know if she wants to make a joke, but she wishes to dissipate the tension in the air.

Michonne chuckles after delivering her pitiable joke. In great need of fresh air, Rick gulps until his lungs are filled to tidal level. Michonne notices that her chuckles sound more like little sobs. She wipes her tears and clears her throat to remove the hoarseness.

"Michonne, you're the most beautiful pregnant woman on earth…" He says timidly when he recovers.

"I will be a father?" He questions hopeful, and the words are mere inaudible whispers.

Helpless, Rick sit on his balcony, and his feet dangle over the city. His voice is full of wonderments, and he cannot believe the unexpected news. His whispers also emphasize how scared he is.

"A little boy, but I want you to understand that it will change nothing." She tries to install the base of a future relationship.

"I Know Chonne, but can we just …" He does not know what he wants them to do, but something needs to be done before his son's birth.

"I need you here." She starts hesitantly, but she throws cautions to the wind.

She decides to speak with her heart.

"I know you must be angry with me or even hate me, but I need you here. I can't be alone when he comes to this world. I'm panicking Rick." She confesses her thought and admits part of the reason why she called tonight.

"I'm booking a flight for Tonight, and no, I don't hate you Chonne. I will never hate you." He says with a voice filled with passion and sincerity.

"We're really going to be parent … Can I see him? I mean..." He is speechless.

The news takes away the last alcohol's effect. Rick does not know what to do, but his heart cannot stop palpitating.

"Hold on." Michonne answers and she starts a face time.

She places the camera in front of her swollen belly and as in cue, the little creature in the warmth of her stomach starts to move. His little feet press to her uterus until a print is visible on her skin.

Rick stares at the image and a bright smile recovers his lips. Soon, their son places a small hand, which pushes Michonne belly forward.

"He is saying hi. Michonne, he is saying hi?" Rick points at the screen and his son moving hand.

Thirty minutes later, he is still staring at the screen, and his son has stopped moving. Michonne swollen stomach mesmerizes him. He asks many questions, Michonne does not know where to start. He bothers her about a list of book. He wants to catch up with her list of prenatal book. His enthusiasm drains Michonne. They talk until a yawn interrupts every sentence Michonne tries to form. Although, they do not stop until she starts missing big chunks of the conversation because she dozes off.

"See you tomorrow I guess," Michonne adds softly


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy the new chapter**

 **I don't own the walking dead**

* * *

 **Chapter II: Delivery room… & consequences**.

* * *

The smell of bleach, chloride renders him sick and adds to his uneasiness. The white corridor has the accent of death, and the bright light never helps to soften the picture projected. He hates hospital, but he has no choice today. Rick looks at his overall appearance, and his fingers ruffle his curly mane. The bathroom lights flicker every minute. He hates hospital, and he is familiar with the intensive care unit. Despite his familiarity with the place, there is a strong difference between being a patient and being a family member.

A day ago, Michonne started her labour, but it is abnormal. Which is why twenty-four hour later, their son is still inside her. The situation is stressful, and Rick is losing his mind. It is so hard to watch her suffer. Few bleeding later and an incredible amount of test, Michonne is still the picture of grace. Although, Rick knows she is trying to pretend for everyone sake.

The soon to be a father does not have Michonne's resilience. When stress enters the equation, he crumbles. Rick wants to support her the best he can. The experience is awful and stressful. He experiences every second of anxiety. Rick and anxiety is a dangerous mixture. During stressful times, his body seeks for numbness, which is why he left Michonne's room.

Rick continues to stare at his apathetic reflection. The young man sighs and tries to warm his abnormally pale skin. He knows he is taking too long to return, and Michonne needs him now. At some point, he expects the nurse to come fetch him while she shouts that his girlfriend has started to push. Michonne will never forgive him after she finds out, but he wants to give her the best of him.

…

….

…

…

Rick searches inside his pocket, and he wonders if he needs to keep his promise. Since the almost broke down in the waiting room, he needs an extra dose. The pregnancy was technically a safe one, and now he may lose child and ex-girlfriend. The young man needs to keep his mind together, and Michonne in abnormal labour causes an increase of anxiety. The trader finds the transparent yellow box filled with his opioid pills.

Rick breathes an air of relief and takes three pills in his hand. However, he has a moment of lucidity. Tonight, he needs to put the woman who he loves above personal comfort. Michonne's safety and mental balance should be his priority. The future for their son isn't bright. If anything happens to the baby, will he be of any support with numb emotions? Rick questions himself while he stares at an exhausted version of him.

They already took blood samples from him in case their son suffers any visible sign of haemolysis because Rick and Michonne have different blood rhesus. Consequently, their son may suffer from the haemolytic disease of the newborn. She is an O positive, and he is an extremely rare type, O negative. Once born, their son may need extra plasma and blood. He is the immediate donor.

Another dilemma begins, but such choices should not lead to a conundrum. When he considers taking fewer pills rather than suffering through the side effect of withdrawal, guilt overwhelms Rick. His son life may depend on the purity of his blood. He looks at his reflexion in the mirror. Michonne's words echo in his mind. He feels like a monster, and perhaps, he thinks like one.

"Who're you, a piece of shit?" He questions his reflection, which stares back with dead eyes.

Once in times, he was a man whose words had value. Rick fears the withdraw symptoms, which started to overtake his body. However, thoughts of Michonne reaction and the pain, which she heroically endures grounds him. Regretfully, he stares at his hand. He will hold another hour. If he takes the drug now, He will not be able to look at her in the eyes. Michonne will not have the support, which she deserves. He will never let her battle with the pain alone while she bravely brings their son into this world.

Rick throws the pills in his hands down the toilet and flushes. However, he needs another way to control his physiologic reaction to the lack of opioids. He reads on the toilet door, and it is a non-smoking area. Despite the warning, he needs a palliative, or eventually, he will faint. The pills take a longer time to act, but the withdrawal effect can be of extreme violence. Riskily, the young man hides in a booth. He reaches for a smoke detector, which he recovers with toilet papers.

Rick sits on top of a toilet seat and lights his cigarette. The first smokes liberate his mind and wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. Increasingly, he has less tremor in his hands. Busy hands help him to avoid thinking of such things as future body ache and hallucination. Until he regains a bit of functionality, He smokes his cigarette. Once he is able to breathe without experiencing nausea, the young man walks out of the room. He rushes between the hospital corridor and returns to Michonne's side.

…

….

….

…..

Rick slides next to Michonne, and she is still not dilated enough to start delivering. Unfortunately, her contractions are worse. The young woman extends her hand for Rick to take. The present situation has dissipated the awkwardness, which tainted their interaction since he reached Rome.

Michonne and Rick had a complicated week trying to avoid interaction while maintaining the most contact. Today is the apogee of difficult two weeks. They can't pretend tonight, and they need the other. Rick kisses the palm of her hand, and he keeps her hand pressed to his nose. Her scent is enough to calm him and diminish his anguish.

"You look sick." She stares at him and the dark circle under his eyes, which solidifies her assumptions.

Since he reached Rome, Michonne has questioned his health. After she left, he lost an enormous amount of weight. His lifestyle has many side effects. When he does have to pretend for Michonne's sanity, Rick does not eat or sleep unless his body threatens to shut down. His pills keep him going for days. Therefore, he fed himself with drugs, and he continued working.

When he makes his entrance in the room, his flaws are highlighted. His sobriety reveals his physical flaws, and his sickness is unmistakable. Pale skin, sweaty forehead and sunken eyes are standing out when just three hours ago he looks healthy. Now the drugs are out of his bloodstream. The last two-week, Rick was never sober around Michonne. Although, He took fewer pills to avoid the physical appearance of an intoxicated individual. Michonne always looks in his eyes when she addresses him, and so he knows dilated pupils would have betrayed him.

Rick tries to smile and hides his discomfort between little chuckles. She is always so observant, which is why his past attempt to hide his addiction failed. Rick leans down, and he kisses Michonne's forehead.

"Thirty hours in, you still look radiant. However, I ain't a gorgeous goddess. I need my beauty sleep or I look like shit." There is underlying panic in his voice.

Although, the half-truth inside the statement disguise it. Michonne wants to laugh, but her abdominal muscle will not allow a movement. She snorts between wincing. Her contractions are closer, but her stage of labour is abnormal. She looks at Rick, and she tries to put on a brave smile. However, she is living her personal nightmare.

The young woman's hand latch on his hand, and she closes her eyes. Rick's thumb caresses the corner of her hand. He tries to focus on Michonne, and the bitter taste on his tongue makes it hard to comfort her with words. Although, it does not stop him from being present. He tries to tell her more jokes, but at one point, silence overtakes the room. With her eyes close, Michonne tries to think positively.

"They're going to be fine." He whispers to himself and continues to squeeze their joint hand.

Two hours later, there is still no change in Michonne's condition. Her cervical dilation is still zero, but her contractions are regular. The young woman is in immense pain, and she cannot keep the pretence. Something is definitely wrong with their son because he is moving less. Helplessly, she stares at Rick, and she does not know how to tell him.

…..

….

….

….

Now, she needs her rock, but she is afraid to share the terrible truth. Rick is as afraid as she is, but he will never abandon her when she needs him the most. He decides to be optimistic for once. He will keep the flame of hope burning for her.

"Chonne… breathe…He is coming… He is just late…Sorry, he is his father's son." It is a herculean prowess to hide the panic in his voice.

Between each sentence, the young man swallows the building tears. He has to clear his throat multiple time. Rick places his free hand over Michonne's swollen stomach. He caresses her warm skin, and he tries to distract her with jokes. Despite his effort, nothing can take her mind away from the pain. Soft cries fill the room, and Rick has to bite his tongue not to join Michonne in her lamentation. Repeatedly, he swears that everything is fine with the baby.

"Breathe sweetheart… let do it together." He encourages her to take deep breaths and never ceases to caress her belly.

"The book says he may be in distress if the labour lasts too long. He's not moving" Her hoarse voice fills the room, and tears have drenched her face and her hospital gown.

"Book don't know shit about Grimes men times… he is going to come out screaming now another deep breath, please." He whispers after placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Move, please. Don't continue Grimes men's tradition. Don't make your mother cry." with very low whispers, Rick pleads with his child.

He places another kiss on Michonne stomach. Usually, their son is responsive to his voice. Something Michonne envies, but nothing happens. Rick doesn't want Michonne to stress, and so he pinches her stomach. He wants to mimic the effect of their son's hand pressing on Michonne's stomach. With false excitement, he tries to continue the farce.

"Did you feel him? He says hello." The tears have transformed his voice even though he fights so hard not to shed them.

A pitiable smile grace Michonne's lips. She pretends back for Rick's sanity. They wear dysmorphic smiles on their lips, which no longer hide the tears. Words are the last thing they need, and they seek physical contact. Rick lays down on the bed, and he presses Michonne to his trembling body. Although his mind refuses to stop screaming for a little moment of numbness.

After three more hours without a movement, her labour definitely lasted too long. Michonne places her hand on her stomach, and the foetal movements are absent. Her cries are louder. She read every book, and she knows Rick did the same. She does not know what to say to console him. She considers apologizing because she feels as if her body is failing them. Rick senses her anguish. He leans to kiss her pregnant stomach.

"He is your son…" Adamantly, he tries to reassure her. "He is your son, Chonne…you're a warrior and so is he." He presses his forehead to hers and wipes her heavy teardrops.

Rick continues to caress her stomach. On top of the stress of the situation, his body was trying to force him to take the drug. However, Michonne's courage at the moment appears to centre him, and he uses her commendable strength to keep them both from drowning in misery. He takes a deep breath, and he forces Michonne to do the same. A breath after another, they continue to wait for their tardy son.

An hour more, and there is no other medical option but to induce her labour. Their son is in distress, and his heartbeat has dropped below hundred by minutes.

* * *

Midwives and the obstetrician surround Michonne. They ask of her the ultimate effort. Their son is a macrosomia case. She has a normal canal, but a ten pounds baby should not pass through it. Desperate cries fill the room, and Rick has a hard time listening to them. Michonne squeezes his hand, and it is a miracle he still has a hand.

They encourage her to push, and she does push with her warrior strength. In her last effort, she succeeds to deliver their son. When there is no cry at the delivery theatre, Rick's eyes focus on Michonne. Exhausted and disoriented, she stares at nothing. The young woman is increasingly pale. Slowly she lays back on the bed, and she closes her exhausted eyes. Around her lower limbs, there's an immense pool of blood.

"Clear the room. We have a P.P.H (post-partum haemorrhage) and apparent state of shock." He hears when hands grab him and drag him out of the delivery room.

"Chonne…Chonne." Rick cries the young woman name while he watches her lose her consciousness.

Outside of the theatre, his body reaches his limit. Rick vomits the entire content of his empty stomach, and he cannot seem to stand. Sweating and faint, he searches for a spot to rest. He can no longer resist, and now he needs to numb everything. Rick drags the pills out of his pocket, and he throws as much as he can in his mouth. He crawls to the closest wall facing the delivery room. Panicked, he stares at the door, which separates him from his ex-girlfriend and his unresponsive new-born.

An hour later, a confident voice pulls him out of his staring contest with the delivery's door. Rick hears many questions, but he is too high to process anything. Ultimately, the pills started to act, and he has taken a heavy dose. The nurse crouch by his side and she stares into the extremely dilated pupils.

"Can you answer by yes or no, sir?" She presses Rick for an answer, but the young man answer with chuckles.

The woman rushes to the head nurse, and they have to find a viable donor for Rick and Michonne's Haemolytic son. Rick continues to stare at the delivery's room, which contains Michonne. He misses the moment when the medical personnel takes his son to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU.) On top of the fetal distress syndrome, the newborn suffers from clear sign of blood heamolysis.

Three hours later, he emerges from his secondary state, and Michonne is still in theatre. An hour later, she is taken into the obstetric ICU. She is breathing, and fortunately, the obstetrician stopped her haemorrhagic episode. The nurses inform Rick of his son's fate. The young man rushes to the NICU, and he watches over his newborn son. For two days, he is of no help because his blood needs to be purified before they allow him to donate blood for his son.

Morning and nights, he switches between intensive care departments. From paediatrics to obstetrics, the haunting feeling, which accompanies each hour bring the ultimate epiphany. How did she survive watching him battle for his life? He has to admit the truth. He has a problem, and it almost cost him the son, who Michonne fought so hard to birth. He is not dependent, as he likes to think. He is an addict, who needs help, and now he admits it. He stares at his son, and rather than feeling pride, he resents his shortcoming as a father.

"Mr Grimes, your wife is out of the ICU." They tell him three days later.

* * *

"I'm sorry…" With a hoarse voice and a tears drenched face, the sincerity of his pain is unmistakable.

With the past days, which he spent running from NICU to the ICU, Rick received a taste of his own medicine. Bitter doesn't start to describe it. The pain and the constant fear, how did she survive such a horrid environment? Every time he was rush to the ICU due to an overdose, she never faltered. Once he emerged she was always by his side.

Night and days spent by his side, and she never complained. When she argued, it was for his personal interest. Her ultimate desire was and is still to see him win over the cruel mental disease, which addiction happens to be. She spent years trying to explain her fear to see him die, and he was deaf because he wanted to pursue a delusional happiness. Rick can't look at Michonne, and the shame suffocates him. For the first time, he admits his guilt.

"For what? I blame our son big head on you, but his extreme weight is all on my sweet tooth and chocolate bar diet." Softly, she smiles and intertwines her pale fingers with his.

Rick doesn't receive well her attempt to humour. How selfless can she be? If the hospital didn't have a reserve of O negative plasma, his addiction would have cost the neonate's life. Why does she love him? He wished he understood and freed her of the feeling. A week after she almost bled to death, she tries to be mindful of his sentiment.

The young man smile is depreciative. He refuses to take the easy exit, which she afforded him. He takes a deep breath, and he knows the truth will hurt her. However, she deserves the absolution.

"Chonne, I'm sorry for these hours you spent in an ICU. I'm sorry for the hours when you wondered if I was taking my last breath. I had a vague idea of the pain I created, and I diminished the effect. However, the thang is I'm selfish, and this relationship was all about me. You gave because it's so you to give. You fought because it's not in you to abandon a dying soul. You cared because it's so you…" the words stumble on his tongue.

His thoughts were in Shambles. He doesn't know why he says those words, but he has to share something with her. With the lack of sleep and the realization, Rick doesn't know how to approach the matter. The young man observes Michonne from the corner of his eyes. He is breathless, and no amount of deep breath consumed will help change it. With shaking fingers, Rick empties his pocket. Her resilience can't preserve her from the disappointment and the pain.

…..

….

….

….

"We almost lost him because of I…" With the admission, suddenly the subject is harder to brush.

Rick continues to place his opioids on the bed by her side. Michonne stares at the man, who she loved for years. Something breaks, and it no longer matters how tired she is. He has crossed the ultimate lines. When it comes to her, she is open to forgiveness but she stands as the only shield between him and their son. Michonne stares at the bottle filled with pills. Slowly she unclasps their join hands, and she turns her back to Rick. She no longer has the strength to excuse his addiction.

"I'm sorry, Chonne. I'm so sorry." Rick tries to reach her, and he extends his arm to touch her.

Perhaps, it's his undesired caress or the repetition of the same words. How many times has he apologized? Years of excuses, and never a second of accountability. Michonne can no longer endure in silence. She can't hope and survive on wishes. She is tired of being the rational person, and the peacemaker, which tries to salvage a broken relationship. Going away wasn't enough, and she understands it now. Abruptly, the young woman sits on her hospital bed. She grabs the pills' containers, and she observes the clear container.

"Worth more than me…" The coldness, which wraps her words chill the entire room.

The young woman opens the pills container, and she picks one of the pills. They appeared to be so small and unthreatening. It is different from a syringe, which looks dangerous. There are white dull pills in clear yellow containers, but the effects on a life are so cataclysmic. Her entire world no longer stands, and the man who she loves is a shadow of himself.

"Worth more than a life with me…" she continues her angry tirade, and her voice starts to rise.

The monitor attached to her limbs and heart starts to ring. The young woman reaches her emotional and physiologic limits. Frustrated, Michonne throws the pill, which she holds at Rick. The little white object hits the young man's chest. It doesn't bring the relief, which she wishes it could bring. Almost hysterical, she pours the entire container on the bed, and she spreads the pills on her bed. Observing them may lead to an answer. Ultimately, she wants answers to the questions, which haunted. If Rick finds his answer in there, why doesn't

"Our dreams…" a pill hitting punctuates her sentence, and she throws the problem at him.

"Our son…" another pill hit Rick immobile frame.

"My son…" she throws more pills at him, and she opens the second container.

"The family we started to build…" pills thrown at Rick's face followed every word.

The young man doesn't react, and it worsens her hysteria. In her anaemic state, Michonne attempts to leave her bed, but she is too exhausted to stand on her knee. She falls back on her bed. Rick tries to help her, and she shoves him away from her. For the first time, Rick faces his worst fear. When his eyes meet angry brown one, he stares at disgust and murderous intents. Tears slide from his eyes, and desperation engulfs his entire being.

…

…

…

…

Michonne looks for more pills to throw at him, but there is nothing left. It agitates her more now that she has nothing to throw at him, and she picks the plastic containers. She raises her hand to throw it too, but exhaustion overtakes her mind. She stares at a crying Rick, and she moves further away from him. Sinking in her uncomfortable hospital bed, Michonne feels lost. Empty and hollow sobs leave her chest, and she drags her knee to her chest. For a minute, the sounds of desperate cries fill the room.

It is the most pain she ever allows herself to express around Rick. He knows her strength, and it often fuels his determination to match her. However, he is so unfamiliar with her fragility and anger. The young man irremediably broke her. Rick stares at a crying Michonne, and he knows how much she hates him right now. However, she needs a shoulder to cry on, and he is the only one who knows the reassuring words. When she lost her parent, he held her. When she went through hell with her social depression, Rick held steady until the tears dried. Carefully, he climbs in her hospital bed and wraps his arm around her fragile body.

Michonne attempts to fight his hold, but Rick doesn't intend to let her sink in misery alone. Ultimately, she gave in the embrace. When she accepts to stay in the enclave of his arm, the young woman hides her head in his chest. Rick feels her tears against his skin after they cross the thick layers of his denim shirt. The guilt starts to eat him from inside. He did this to her, and he will pay his penance to fix her.

"Would you want him to be around you?" between sobs, she succeeds to push the words out.

She tries to push his arm away, but she has no strength to relinquish the comfort. Her head remains nested on his chest. Michonne feels stupid to have just her tears to offer now. Her anger died when the tears started to fall. She cannot look at him in the eyes, but most of her adult life she sought strength in the blue of his eyes.

It hurts her to discover the mountain of her resentment, which she tried to ignore for years. Consequently, she reaches for comfort in the only place where she ever knows where to find it. In the protective cocoon, which he formed with his arm, Michonne continues to cry.

Rick knows it will further harden their intricate situation. The young man stares at the woman in his arm. In his heart, she rests on a pedestal, which makes her deserving of everything. Often, he is only able to offer pain and hurtful honesty. Now, he knows he has a problem. The trader does not know if he should go with honesty or a leap of faith.

"Right now I would not want to be around myself. I have a problem, but I am going to work on it. He will have the father he deserves or a parent as good as you will be. We're a team, and I let you down." Confidence enhances the sincerity of his voice.

Rick knows this answer means returning home alone, but they need to be better. A new life does not allow trial and error. He already started to make the arrangement. Michonne does not voice her opinion, and he assumes she is sceptical.

"This time, I ain't lying Chonne. I'm going to rehab, therapy, and all the thangs, which can help." Adamantly he tries to convince her.

He peruses his phone and presents to her the arrangement he did during this week. Rick chose a three months program in a rehab clinic, and he contacted a psychiatrist to work on his stress, anger, and anxiety. He will be taking time off from work. The young man intends to learn better coping mechanism and new ways to maximize his mental ability.

"You're not getting a second chance nor coming next to him until you can be a father," Michonne warns him.

Her tone is less icy, but the coldness and anger have yet to disappear. She refuses to fall for empty promises. It is the first time that he admits his problem, and it gives Michonne a sort of hope. She wants her son to have a father, and it keeps her from completely cutting him out of the picture. As for now, she resents Rick. Unfortunately, he betrayed her trust in a time when she needed him the most. It is no longer about them, and Rick senses it when she puts more distance between them.

"Do you have a name for him?" he deflects to a safe subject, but Michonne's expression tells him everything he needs to know.

Rick swallows hard. Faith is the last thing they need in this situation. Michonne and his son need a steady engagement.

"As soon as he walks out of the NICU. I just need to be here when he needs me, and then I join the rehab." He explains his plan, which appears to appease Michonne.

"Carlton Richard Grimes." She answers softly, and she hopes to see him as soon as the paediatric doctor clears him from a sort of life-threatening condition.

Michonne loses to exhaustion and falls asleep in Rick's arm. He has a glimpse of a life he could have had, and it is a motivator when he walks the first day in his rehab clinic.

 **Here ends the angst part but opioids addiction is a very serious condition, and there was a need for realism in Rick behaviours.**

 **also because michonne is O positive and rick is O negative. carl suffers a condition calls the haemolytic disease of a newborn, it leads to pathological jaundice, liver damage, and spleen enlargement. which is why he needed plasma. I didn't want to turn the chapter in a medical class.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews**

 **I don't own the walking dead**

* * *

 **Chapter III: Break-up &… consequences of co-parenting Carl (PART I)**

* * *

In two weeks, Carlton Richard Grimes became the centre of his parents'world. From the day of his birth, many things changed. Michonne changed her perspective on love, and she discovered Maturity. She could live without Rick, but her son meant the world to the young woman.

Rick gained a new perspective on things too. He was wasting his youth, and he could no longer continue on his spiral of debauchery. The young man wants to be a great father, and it starts with tangible change, which he made.

Carl is the soul of his mother, and his father's reason to better himself. Presently, he is the reason why his mother acknowledges his father. Since Michonne outburst, the atmosphere between the young couple is anticlimactic.

Carl continues to recover from his complicated delivery. The colour of his skin is less yellow. His liver and spleen are smaller. At any moment, they may release him from the NICU.

It is the third week, and the nurse has become familiar with Rick and Michonne. Although it is hard to see the pair together, the young woman avoids Rick like the plague.

Two weeks later, Michonne's resentment hasn't disappeared. She is unfamiliar with the sentiment. Her anger with him never lasts more than a day. Perhaps the reason behind her anger is too strong. , habitually, she finds his excuse. This time, Rick addiction hurt their son, and she can't allow it to happen again.

...

..

...

"Here..." Hesitantly, Rick offers Michonne a chocolate bare.

She nods rather than to verbalise her grateful sentiment. The young man doesn't expect Michonne to say more. Progressively, he has started to accept the rupture in their relationship.

Every day when they meet in the NICU, Rick offers a chocolate bare to Michonne. She takes it, but she always ignores his presence by her side. As long as she eats it, Rick is content. He doubts she feeds herself. The young man knows her attention solely focuses on their son.

Taking the seat by her side, Rick waits for Michonne to take the first bites. The young woman knows he won't stop looking at her until she finishes her bare, and so she quickly eats.

Michonne sips water from a bottle

Now silently, they stare at their son. Every second, Rick glances at Michonne. He knows to keep his apologies to himself. Words no longer matter, only his actions will placate her.

The young trader doesn't want to share the progress in his journey. He doesn't believe Michonne want to hear anything else about his addiction, but he understands her. However, he has done some progress. He met a psychiatrist, who prescribed to him a palliative drug. For the past two weeks, he has been clean.

...

...

...

"He looks better every day." Tired of the painful silence, Rick attempts a conversation.

He glances at Michonne, and she doesn't bother to face him. For the last days, she chooses to ignore him. Perhaps, she can't forgive him. Rick takes a deep breath, and he attempts to speak again.

"I can't wait to hold him. I hope he can make it out today." He insists.

Michonne sighs and she moves away from the window. The last thing, which she wants to hear, is Rick Grimes 'voice. Although, she must admit he has been the best support during this month. It is harder to be angry with him when every morning and night she finds him staring at Carl through the window.

She knows he feels guilty, but she refuses to excuse his negligence. In the last day, they haven't talked much, but they have spent their day with the other. She brings him coffee in the morning, and he brings her chocolate bars.

"Here." Michonne returns with warm coffee, which she carefully placed in his hand.

"Thank you." He answers and the follow up is awkward. He doesn't know what to say.

He tries to suppress another apology. The week has been an endless repetition of apology. If he says another word, she will lose it on him. However, he can't help himself the guilt is too strong. It is stronger now because he is on the path to sobriety.

"Chonne... "She sighs when her name pours out on his lips

She braces herself for another apology. The entire week, she heard a variation of I'm sorry I never intended to endanger him. Now, she wonders what will be the next words. Fortunately, a nurse interrupts them. Michonne exhales a sigh of relief. She doesn't want to play a villain and repeats the same cruel but necessary warning.

"Mr Grimes and Mrs Barnes, you can pick up your son tonight." She smiles at the pair and leaves.

Rick and Michonne watch as the nurse picks Carl up and takes him to another room. From the corner of the eye, they observe each other, and the moment is a bit awkward. Slowly, they drift toward each other, and Michonne's arms circle Rick's waist. He kisses the crown of her head.

"I can't wait to meet our son." With teary, she whispers in his chest when her head rests.

He relates to her excitement.

...

...

..

..

Manually, Rick closes his mouth. He spent the last hour in a daze. His vocabulary only includes wow and amazing. He can't help much his reaction to the scenery in front of him. It must be Carl's third meal, but the young man continues to be impressed by the connection.

It feels magical to witness such connection and the smile on Michonne's lips is brighter than he remembers seeing it. A rebel dreadlock escapes her ponytail, and Rick rushes to remove it from her face. He doesn't want anything to disturb this peaceful moment.

"Thank you." Afraid to awake the dosing child in Michonne's arm, Rick whispers.

When Michonne turns to face, she encounters eyes filled with adoration. She inhales and tries to look away. Under his magnetic, she blushes like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"For what?" Michonne regains her verbal ability.

Rick points at the little being in her arms, who has taken her nipple in hostage. They are both afraid to speak because ultimately Carl has fallen asleep. Michonne continuous to look at Rick baffled by his answer.

"Him...he is so precious. "He continues to whispers and sits on the armrest of the chair, where Michonne sits.

"I can't believe we created him" he pursues while his forefinger runs along their son button nose.

"Shouldn't be so hard. He looks like a double of you." She replies and finally moves their son head away from her breast.

Carl has fallen asleep mid-feed. Michonne glances at Rick, who almost overlaps her, and his eagerness to hold their son is overwhelming. Carefully, she places the baby in Rick's arm. The young man is shaking like a leaf and stands tensely.

"It's okay, relax... Breathe rick." She tries to speak between chuckles.

Rick's expression display concentration. He doesn't dare to move, breathe, and speak. However, his smile is so wide. Michonne corrects the posture of his arm.

"He does look like me." He wonders happily.

Carl resemblance to his father is striking, and his metabolism appears to have discarded the half of DNA, which his mother submitted. From the colour of his eyes to the last strand of hair.

"Hey there Carlton. "Joyful, Rick coos at his beautiful son.

The sound of his father's voice stirs his attention. In a matter of a second, tears and high pitch cries disturb the peaceful silence. A helpless Rick faces Michonne. This is a bit to advance for him, and he has yet to learn how to carry a baby correctly. His features have morphed into a plea for help. Michonne rolls her eyes, and she retakes their son.

"Carlton?" There is a mocking undertone to her voice.

"He doesn't like his full name. Look what you did. "She pursues and starts to pace back and forth in hope to calm their crying baby.

However, it is ineffective and Carl continues to empty his lungs with his loud cries. At her turn, Michonne looks at Rick. She is no longer so confident. Early morning tricks aren't walking.

"Do it, it's your fault if he is crying. Why would you call him Carlton?" She drops back their son into Rick's arms.

The young man abstains from correcting Michonne. She suggested each of their son's names. He turns to Michonne and expects some sort of instruction. She understands the creature in his arms better than he does. They cohabited for nine months.

"talk to him, sing, he likes your voice...Rick talk to your son." She presses him.

"What do you say to a baby?" The serious frown, which his visage wears, is the only reason why Michonne knows he genuinely wants an answer.

"I sorry little Rick for allowing your mother to name you. Clearly, you have a head to be call Kevin, Chandler or I don't. You're doing just fine in the way to express your preference. We will run some name by you. Cry for maybe, cry louder for definite no, and silence for a yes. Now Rick or Richard." the young father starts a pointless conversation.

Although, his son appears to be taken by the sound of his voice. The cry is less loud, and Rick looks at Michonne for validation. In a matter of a day, the young woman has become a baby expert for Rick.

"Sweetheart cries louder, you can't settle for rick" Michonne slides near the father of her child.

Definitely, her baby doesn't look like a Rick.

"You're cheating." Rick moves away from Michonne when he notices the ugly faces, which she makes to scare their son.

Nevertheless, it is too late because the baby is crying. Accordingly, Rick junior or little rick is ruled out of the competition.

"Chonne..." A competitive Rick tries to stop Michonne. "let's try this again son, rick or..." Michonne interrupts him before he can finish.

"Please, can we abstain from feeding your ego more? He already looks like your carbon copy, and he needs a name of his own or one, who is a reminder of me."

Michonne pouts until Rick looks a way. She refuses to allow him to win the name battle though, her son appears to like the name, Rick. Will her future look like this? The Grimes men siding against her, already he chose physically to favour his father. Nine months to produce a carbon copy of Rick, nature is unfair.

"I think it is too late to argue about names, you already chose to name him Carlton Richard." The new father tries to compromise.

"I don't regret naming after the men, who hold my heart. My dad Carlton and you. However, doesn't have to use both. Carl sound just fine to me. Doesn't it baby? Doesn't it baby? "She explains the choice of the first and middle name.

However, Carl is a little nod to her middle name, Carla. If he looks like his father, it is only fair that they name him after her. Carl appears to agree, and the tears cease. Quickly, the little creature returns to his slumber.

"Carl." Rick agrees

* * *

 **2days later**

For the last three hours, Michonne has failed to put Carl to sleep. As many neonates, Carl Grimes has preferences. Most of those are in favour of his mother. He prefers his mother's arms, and he adores her. However, there is a little anomaly.

Since his mother womb, the newborn is more receptive to his father's voice. The preference for Rick's voice extends to the lullaby and sleeping time. It is the reason why Michonne fails to lure him to sleep.

"I will put him to sleep." Rick proposes while he tries to reach for their son.

Habitually, the young woman allows Rick to conduct the sleep ritual, but tonight it is different. Michonne is anxious, and Carl's caprice worsens her mental state. Consequently, when Rick tries to reach for their son, she moves him away from his hand.

"He needs to be used to someone else putting him to sleep." Her frustrated tone sounds abrasive.

Rick decides to ignore her angry tone and focuses on her facial expression. He doesn't want to speculate on the reason behind her frustration. Although, he knows her enough to make an educated guess.

"He eventually will. Tonight, I can do it." He insists and tries another time to take Carl from Michonne, who still fails to calm the crying creature.

"Chonne… I won't drop him." Frustrated by her strange behaviour, Rick adds.

Concerned, the young man stares at the mother of his child, and he expects a substantial explanation. When she notices how her behaviour is uncharacterized, Michonne attempts to relax. Carefully, she places her son in his father's arm.

"I know you won't drop him, but he shouldn't be used to you only. What will happen when you leave tomorrow?" Ultimately, she brushes a part of the subject.

Rick secures his son in his arms, and he asks Michonne to wait for a second while he tries to lull Carl. For a few minutes, Michonne watches him while he sings the French lullaby, which she thought him and learned from her Cajun grandmother.

The number of time, which she has seen this scene happen, doesn't matter. It is almost magical how the huskiness of Rick's voice silences their child's cry. The young man doesn't finish the song, and a few lines are enough to put Carl to sleep. A part of Michonne is envious, but the other part worries about the potential repercussions.

...

...

...

...

After returning Carl to his crib, Rick reenters the room. He places his hand over Michonne's shoulder, and he drags her to a sofa. In the last two days, she started to drop her guard, and she no longer virulently react to his touch.

"Sit and take a deep breath." Rick's whispers in her ear while he starts to massage her shoulder.

After few content moans, the young man knows to press his advantage. His hands' movements are slower than when he started, and he deepens his voice. Rick still remembers how to extracts the truth from Michonne.

"Chonne, talk to me." Ultimately, he asks when her muscles are pouty in his hand.

"It is nothing... I haven't slept for two days. Every five minutes, I must ask you to sing a lullaby because my son hates the sound of my voice or me." A high hysterical pitch coats her voice.

The lack of sleep enhances her emotions. Tears pool in the corner of her eyes, and futilely, she tries to prevent their fall. When she attempts to inhale, Rick's perfume is everywhere. A frustrated Michonne walks out of the sofa.

"Hey, come here." Rick drags her closer to him, and he wraps her into a warm hug.

"Now, continue to breathe. In and out, Chonne." He coaches her through every breath.

Michonne's anxiety is a common thing, which started after her parents' tragic accident. Over the years, Rick mastered the calming techniques. When Michonne calms down and starts to breathe, the young man leads her back to the sofa. He squats in front of her, and he lifts her chin to make her face him.

"Carl's sleeping issue isn't the problem, right? Progressively, he will love your voice, or I will record the song." Subtly, he tries to start the conversation.

Michonne looks at Rick in the eyes, but she doesn't confirm his assumption. However, years of tacit eyes conversation helps him.

"Is it because of my departure tomorrow? Is there anythang you want to say?" He continues to approach the topic with care.

Rick doesn't want to let his hope influence the conversation. After their hospital's argument, the young man doesn't know where their relationship stands. When the hospital released Carl, a wave washed over the couple. For a time, the individual issues ceased to matter.

"Rick..." Michonne hesitates, and she is unsure of how to proceed.

Raising Carl with Rick overwhelms the young woman. It is only two days, but she has seen enough to know what she will lose tomorrow.

"I'm afraid to do this thing alone." She confesses, and she waits for a reaction.

Rick squeezes her hands, which he started to hold. He tries to hide his disappointment. He wants Michonne to think of him as more than the father of her son. The young father ignores his distress and focuses on Michonne's sentiment.

"Mom, dad, and Sasha should be here in a few days. I assumed you might need some help." He tries to reassure her.

Although, he misses her point. Michonne smiles and thanks him. She loves Rick's parent, and she will need her best friend. Nevertheless, she will feel alone.

"You didn't have to ask them." Politely, she replies.

"You wouldn't have asked for help, and mom is dying to meet her grandson." Rick counters.

"I am talking about the long term. I don't want to be his mother and his dad. If I have to do so for his safety, I will do it." She corrects the misunderstanding.

Rick inhales, and he sits next to Michonne. He expected this conversation, but he didn't prepare for it. He exhales and decides to jump right into the sensible topic

"Michonne, I get it, and you don't have to sugar coat anythang. I want to give him a family too, but you're no longer there." Uncertainty dictates the pitch of his voice.

Michonne retakes her hand, and she puts some space between their bodies. She didn't expect to brush their couple.

"Rick..." She starts a plea.

The young woman doesn't want a remake of the airport tragedy. The physical distance should do more than the mental distance. Michonne already decided her future with Rick. It is an inexistent future. He will be Carl's father.

"I know it is all my fault, but I don't want to give this up." He starts to speak, and Michonne tries to interrupt him.

"Rick, please... We agreed." She warns him.

She stands and puts the entire room as a distance. Rick doesn't move from the couch, where she previously sat. The young man merely raises his voice, but he knows she can hear him.

"I get it, babe. I don't expect you to overlook the situation, nor do I want you to help to fix it." Rick tries to say his piece.

However, Michonne learned to ignore his false sincerity. Consequently, she hears but doesn't listen. She has a son, and she can't fall for an old trick.

"We don't function, and I enable you too much." She replies.

"I'm not asking you for another chance. I'm telling you that I will fight for you. If you are my strongest opposition, it won't scare me. It doesn't matter who you choose to be with between now and then." Rick clarifies his previous words, and ultimately, he leaves the couch.

He retakes the hands, which she pried away from him. Michonne tries to avoid his eyes. During emotionally charged moments, the blue of his eyes is too vivid. Often, she feels as if her common sense drowns in the blue of his irises.

"However, raising Carl will never only be your job. What you want me to do to be close to him, and I will do it without question. Allow me to be there for him in any way I can." He pleads with her.

Michonne hears his fear to lose his son, and she softens. Ultimately, she looks into his eyes. The young woman discovers sincerity, and she opens herself to a conversation.

"I will need tangible proofs. I don't need your words. I need a monthly proof of your sobriety. I want to know my son will never experience anything as bad as what I experience. Carl comes before your job, you, and anything else. I won't hesitate to take away your parental rights, and notice that I'm making a promise, not a threat." Michonne lies a list of conditions at Rick's feet.

"It's alright. If you want, I will take a monthly random urine test, and you will choose the date. I can quit my job and consult instead. Chonne, nothang matters more than Carl does. I swear you will never raise him alone. Even during the Rehab's month, I will be present." With a hesitation, Rick agrees to every of Michonne condition.

During his two months of Rehabilitation, he keeps his promises. They have an established schedule of Video calls. Most of the times, Michonne allows Rick's private moments with their son. Those moments include Rick watching his son sleep. However, they are enough to keep him sober for two more months.

* * *

 **3months after Carl release from NiCU**

When her phone rings and she reads the caller's id, Michonne curses. The young woman stares at her door, and she asks Sasha to answer it.

"Is everything alright?" When the screen connects, she tries to appear calm.

However, her face is too expressive. In a matter of a second, Rick reads guilt and anxiety, which he decides to ignore. Although, he knows why she feels that way. Her physical appearance is a strong indicator.

"Yeah?" Rick's answer is a question for Michonne.

The young man continues to stare at Michonne, and she is uncomfortable. She looks at her body, which looks amazing in the velvet red dress. The dress flatters her figure. Unmistakably, Rick displays his jealousy. Michonne rolls her eyes, and she pulls her dress down.

"You look sick and tired." She tries to regain his attention.

"Hurt my vanity, Chonne, and here I believed that I was glamorous and sexy." Rick jokes while he tries not to worry her.

The young man doesn't only look sick. Rick's rehabilitation evolved and it means a cessation of palliative drugs. His body experiences the side effect of years of addiction. Today, he is at his lowest level in three months, and he quitted his job earlier.

"Your face is losing the war." Michonne counters, but her look betrays her.

The young woman doesn't want to admit it, but aside from the pale skin, Rick's physical appearance is better. He has gained muscle, and she can't stop staring at his arm. In three months, a lot has changed. Michonne glances at the man, who sits in her room. She shouldn't Fantasize about her ex while she is about to go on a date with another man.

"Very funny, and you look gorgeous. Actually, you look ready to go somewhere." Ricks refuses to fall for Michonne's distraction.

To his secondary question, Michonne cocks an eyebrow, and she dares the father of her child to ask more. Rick smirks, and she knows he will rise to her challenge. Before he can ask, Michonne interrupts him with another question.

"Did you call for a specific reason?" She presses him to say something.

However, she worries too. Rick always follows the schedule, and the call is impromptu. Michonne continues to glance at her living room, and she doesn't want to make her date wait. Although, she drags a chair and sits down.

"Father and son bonding time." Rick's answers with a strong eagerness, which prompts Michonne to observe his expression.

She has to overlook his beautiful features. Michonne resists the temptation to comment on his physical progress. She inhales and reminds herself of her actual situation.

"Rick...rick..." She complains because Carl is asleep.

His father appears to forget the time difference between Rome and Atlanta. Rick follows her thinking pattern, and He checks his watch.

"Fuck." He curses, and Michonne glares at him.

"Sorry, I don't use such language around Carl." He rushes to explain.

There may be an ocean and a screen between them, but Rick doesn't intend to anger Michonne. Accordingly, he soothes her.

"I hope so. He is making small sounds, and you have to hear them." Excitedly, she starts to gush about their son's progress.

"I wish, but I guess he must be asleep." He can't hide his disappointment.

"He is, but I will get him for you. You can watch him sleep." Michonne stands.

"Don't wake him up, and you don't want to miss your date." Rick tries to stop her, but she starts to walk out of the room.

Her image disappears, and the young man stares at an empty screen. Rick faces the roof of Michonne's living room, and he waits for her answer.

"Doesn't matter I can hear your son cry. Wait a minute." She lies and rushes to Carl's nursery.

Michonne senses how much Rick needs to see his son. He will not admit it, but she knows him like the back of her hand. The young woman doesn't want to risk Rick's improvement.

"Chonne... Chonne?" Rick tries again, but silence continues to be the only answer.

"Here, I will give you some privacy." She says while she returns on the screen.

Michonne places down a pillow, and she sits Carl.

…

….

….

"Hello, little angel. Daddy misses you so bad." From ear to ear, Rick can withhold his smile.

Carl attempts to grab the screen and stares at everything in the room. Most of their sessions are Rick, who watches his son leave his infant life.

"I wish I could hug you right now. You're so big." He admires while Carl's continues to attempt to grab the screen.

Eventually, Fingers coated by saliva grab the screen's corner. The infant shakes the tablet, and Rick can no longer see anything.

"Carl, don't touch the screen" Softly, Rick orders.

Three months away, Rick's voice preserves its magical control on Carl. The infant tries to find his father voice, and the source of origin fascinates him. Ultimately, his father's moving picture mesmerizes Carl. He attempts to lick the screen.

"Carlton Richard Grimes don't lick the screen." Between chuckles, Rick tries to regain some authority.

However, he doesn't insist. Out of pettiness, Michonne should enjoy the destruction of her tablet. After a few minutes, Carl stops, and he stares at his father.

"Better." Rick sighs

"Talking about bad behaviours. You're supposed to have my back, young man, but your mother goes on a hot date." Rick vents some of his frustration.

The conversation with his son explores all sort of topics. Perhaps, it is easier to talk to a person, who he loves. In addition, Carl's maximal participation in the conversation is a coo or a drool. There is no judgement nor advice.

"Now, I understand you're little but use your ability to your advantage. Next time, you puke on your mother, and so she has to change. It will take her an extra hour or better pee on her date. Don't let any of them carry you. Remember your team son." Rick continues to express his jealousy and Carl coos while he nods his head.

For Rick, it is an explicit agreement.

"Glad we could talk it out, son. Now, I was saying. I miss you, and I am trying so hard. Sometimes, I want to give in and say F... Your mother will kill me if I swear. Today is one of those days, and I need a reminder. Oh, you're bored. Love you, son." When he notices Carl's closed eyes, Rick stops to talk.

He sits straight, and he continues to stare at his sleeping son.

* * *

Michonne tries, but she can't remove the thought of Rick Grimes. However, she isn't pining over him. The young woman is afraid for him. She stares at her date, and the choice is evident to her. She enters the room.

"Can we push it back tonight?" she asks without preamble.

"Is there a problem? You no longer want to go." Worried, Mike fires multiple questions.

He tried to have another date after the catastrophe. Michonne didn't reciprocate much of his attention, but he wore her resistance.

"I forgot Carl had a facetime date with his father, and so it will take a solid hour to put him back to sleep." Michonne tries to explain her situation.

Although, it is an excuse. Talking to Rick changed her mind. The young woman glances at the dining room, where Carl facetimes his father. Michonne wants to join her boys.

"We can I don't know have dinner to your place. I'm already here, and you are beautiful. We have postponed this for nine months." Mike doesn't want to give, and he senses Michonne reluctance.

However, he believes in momentum. Mike needs a dinner to convince the young woman of his potential. She will fall for his charm.

"Nine-month? What is another day? I will be so distracted while I try to make sure that Carl is comfortable." Michonne finds excuses after excuses.

"Am I getting another date or do I have to wait nine more months?" He tries to salvage what he can.

Michonne looks at the man, and he is attractive. Although, she spent the last thirty minutes thinking about her ex-boyfriend and his beauty.

"Tomorrow, I will make it up to you." She gives an inch so she can get rid of him.

...

...

...

"What was the excuse this time?" Sasha's voice filled with judgement welcomes her while she crosses the living room.

Michonne inhales and she sits on the couch next to her best friend. She starts to remove her pieces of jewellery, and she undoes her hair. The young woman rests her head on Sasha's shoulder, and she prepares f for a difficult task.

"There were no excuses. I need to watch Carl." Embarrassed, Michonne offers a poor excuse.

In disbelief, Sasha emphasizes her eye-roll. She adjusts her posture to allow Michonne some comfort. Does her best friend believe some of her lies?

"Isn't it why Rick begged me to come to Rome? I can watch Carl." Sasha counters.

The young woman crosses her arms and allows a deafening silence to fall into the room. Michonne sighs and she knows what her friend expects.

"Rick called in a day, which is not programmed. I think he is hitting a rough patch." She starts, and Sasha's expression is enough of a comment.

Michonne tries to keep her dignified stance. However, she knows what her best friend will say.

"Rick is the excuse, much more like every other day." Sasha sighs, and she doesn't add much to the conversation.

The young woman saw enough of Rick and Michonne's relationship, and she concluded the pair would always find their way to each other.

"No, he isn't. I want to assure that Carl goes to sleep after the conversation."

"You're not waiting for Rick's return, and so he can win you back?" She ignores Michonne's upgraded excuse, and she follows with a

"I tried to go on date. Rick and I, we are an old thing. We were done before Carl."

"When you conceived your son, you were no longer an item, and so your point was." Sarcasm always shuts down Michonne rebuttal.

Sasha tries not to judge, but it is a hard task. After every break-up with Rick, she has to fix a broke Michonne. Although, she must admit her friend discovered some inner strength since her child's birth. Perhaps, Michonne will not fall for the first apology, but the odds are against her.

"Richard Grimes and I are parenting a son. That is all." Michonne insists.

"Until he gets his fine ass out of Rehab, and takes a flight to Rome." Sasha questions without subtlety.

"Sasha?" The young woman shouts.

"Michonne?" Sasha replies with a bored tone.

"I try to go on date." Michonne counters and Sasha laughs at her face.

"Keyword try, poor Mike waited for nine months. Someone should tell him. There is no competing with the love of your life. Someone should tell him that you are in a committed relationship with another man. By someone, I mean you." Sasha finishes.

With the tone of the last sentence, Michonne knows nothing will be added. Her friend's opinion rests on reasoning, and Michonne tries to follow a few of Sasha's advice. However, it is easier said than done.

"Carl is my only commitment, and for your information, tomorrow I'm going on the date. As for now, I have to see how Rick... Sorry, Carl is doing." she does a Freudian's slip.

Sasha offers an appointed look.

"Hmmm..."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Rick? Did you hear me?" Rick hears Michonne shouts from the other side of the room.

She reappears in the screen with her hair undone. He swallows his next question and decides to answer her question.

"Yes, I did. He is growing so fast." He replies and watches while she carries him away from the screen.

After few minutes, she comes back, and he expects her to hang the call-up. However, she surprises him and sits up to continue the conversation.

"Soon, he will be able to take a flight." She rebounds on his statement.

Michonne sees the hope in Rick's eyes. Although, she should correct him.

"Are you coming back home?" He questions before she clarifies the situation.

"Not really, but Mom wants us to spend Christmas like a family. I have been thinking about it. I will try to get some time from work, but I can't promise anything." She explains to the best of her ability.

Mom stands for Rick's mom. Before their son birth, Michonne was already close to Rick's parents. When she lost her parents, the Grimes acted as a substitute.

"I hope you can make it. If you can't, I will book a flight. I don't want to miss his first Christmas. I'm missing so many first times." Regretfully, Rick adds.

For second Michonne feels guilty, but Rick tries to diffuse the atmosphere. Although, it doesn't work. Michonne laughs at a few jokes, but she needs to say something.

"I haven't said it because I'm not sure if it will hold, but Carl won't mind how many first times you miss as long as he gets the best version of you. It is the person, who is re-emerging every day. Mom told me you finished the Rehab's program." She reaches to him.

Rick hesitates for a minute. Her words mean the world to him, and it makes the guilt bearable. Although he betters himself for his son, Rick almost feels as if he is an absentee father. Five days a week, he speaks for three hours with his son, and he watches him sleep more than Michonne does.

"Yeah, and it is harder than I thought. My therapist helps with some stuff. Although, I feel as if I can't say everything to him. I can't completely open myself. "He finds the strength to brush his recovery.

...

...

...

"Do you want to tell me more?" she asks genuinely interested by his progress.

For three months, she has tried to shut everything concerning Rick's rehabilitation. She fears the disappointment, which follows his relapse. However, after every successful drug test, Michonne becomes more hopeful.

"You have a date, Chonne." Rick tries to avoid the conversation.

"I don't have a date. Tonight, I'm all yours." Michonne notices the double meaning of her statement.

She tries to correct it, but her best friend interrupts her.

"Tonight? Specifically tonight?" Sasha enters the dining room, and sarcasm oozes out her words

"Hello, Sasha." Rick laughs on the other side.

"Hi, Rick. I have to go." Sasha replies and rushes out of the room.

With her eyes, Michonne shoots daggers at her friend's back. Rick clears his throat to regain her attention. Embarrassed by her poor choice of words, Michonne chooses silence.

"I don't want to tell you more, but we can talk more. Tell me about your work." Rick offers her an escape

"I have a new client, my first personal client." Michonne's wonderful smile replaces the words, which left her mouth.

For minutes, she shares more about her case. Michonne talks to Rick as freely as she did before his addiction. She shares her fears to open a trial, and he tells what he did during his first big presentation. His youth humiliation makes her laugh.

"Tell me when you win." He tries to recapture her attention

"How is work for you?" She returns his question and cleans the lonely tears away.

"I quitted." He answers without adding more to his statement.

Ultimately, she understands his prior mood. She warmly smiles at him.

"You love your job, and I'm sorry." Genuinely, she adds.

"I love my son more. I liked my job because I felt the need to prove myself. I wanted to be Rick Grimes, the genius in finance. I'm more now or trying to be more." He continues to talk when he notices that she cares.

It is a secret of Polichinelle, and Rick knows how much Michonne hates his job. However, he knows she means her words. It pushes him to say more.

"I'm not quitting trading. I'm taking over dad's consultant firm. Less stress and more time for everything, which truly matters." He finishes

"And that is?" She questions because she doesn't want to end the conversation

"Carl and you when I magically make it happen." He deadpans.

"Rick..." She warns him.

"I know...but I think you should know." He isn't repentant.

"I'm a bit sleepy. Parenting is exhausting." Michonne tries to escape the conversation.

"next time, I will try to call when you don't have a date." he takes the hint.

"I will be grateful, but Carl loves your voice I think he wins." She smiles.

"I will send a recording." He jokes, and she laughs

"It will make bedtime shorter." She replies.

"Okay..." they both hesitate to pursue.

"Rick..." he interrupts her

"Chonne..." she interrupts him.

"You first, babe." He says

"Are you feeling better?" She asks with a voice filled with love and care

"Tonight yes and hopefully tomorrow too". Her care extracts the truth from him.

"You turn," She says, but she knows what he will say.

"I love you and thank you for listening. Kiss Carl goodnight." He doesn't expect an answer, but he knows it.

"I will." She replies and hangs up

"I love you too."


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews**

 **I don't own the walking dead.**

 **Three more chapters or two left.**

* * *

 **Chapter IV: Break-up &…consequences of co-parenting Carl (part II)**

* * *

 **7 months after Carl's birth**

Flabbergasted, Michonne stares at her son, and then speechless, she turns to face her date. The young woman hardly conserves a serious expression. The little scoundrel also known as Carl Grimes innocently looks away from his crime.

"it is official your son hates me," Mike says in a tone which hardly concealed the true feeling behind the joke.

He also hates the infant. The hatred slowly grows and festers, and Mike doesn't stand the mini cock-blocker. He tries, but Carl's reaction to him makes it impossible.

Still shocked, Michonne takes her time to answer. She picks up her son, who extended his arms the furthest he can to get her attention. The young mother stares into her eyes' son and analyses her date's words.

They may be some truths in the statement. Carl is an expressive infant. Around Mike, he displays the worse types of tantrums. She places him on her hips, and she looks back at Mike.

"Does he?" She questions her son more than she does her date.

If Carl hates him, the future is evident. She isn't looking for a new father for her son. Fortunately, the biologic father does a wonderful job. Rick does such a wonderful, and Michonne started to consider a proper co-parenting system.

In truth, Michonne needs a man, who her son doesn't hate on sight. Carl judgement does and undoes the relationship in her life. As far as it goes based on Carl's opinion and love, she is stuck with the father of said child. Rick is the only man, who her son doesn't assault with vomit or endless cry.

"Between the cry and now this." Frustrated, the young man points at his shirt, which Carl's vomit recovers.

From vomit to urine, Mike has a strange experience with Carl's body fluid. The experience started prior to the infant birth, and it has yet to cease. The baby has such a dramatic reaction to the man.

Sometimes, Michonne laughs at the creative ways, which Carl finds to express his dislike of Mike. The other times, she worries for her son and doesn't care about Mike's grievance. They are not an item of any sort, and she intends to keep it that way.

The man can't take a hint, and she tries everything. From subtle hints of disinterest to long tirades about wanting to explore her celibate youth. However, he refuses to give up. Avoidance doesn't function, and it is impossible to avoid someone, who has the office opposite to her.

Michonne doesn't want a hostile work environment, and so she puts up with the unrequited affection. In addition, she doesn't want Sasha to gloat. Her interaction with Mike is a result of sheer necessity.

When she arrived in Italy, it felt amazing to meet another American in the workplace. They spoke the same language, and she wanted a friend. The young woman allowed herself to go to a random date to speed the process of forgetting Rick. Now, she had an enamoured suitor, who refused to give up.

After the date, which she cancelled three months ago, Michonne cancelled four more dates. Each time the reason is more ludicrous, and Carl is the causative agent.

The first cancelled date, which followed Rick's call, Carl developed a skin rash due to Mike's hand lotion. Perhaps, it is why her son hates him or reacts so virulently to any sort of physical contact with Mike. Although, the misadventure started a series of new cancelled date. As for now, Mike has waited almost a year for a chance with Michonne. The biggest obstacle to his success happens to be a seven months infant, and he may add another day.

….

….

….

"I'm sorry Mike." Michonne apologises, but she focuses on her son.

From Michonne's expression, Mike can sense the excuse. He can't allow the little monster to win another battle. Consequently, he rushes to stop Michonne next sentence.

"It's nothing that I can't wash." He says while he points at his shirt.

This time, he will not allow her to use the excuse of the damage clothes. The last time, her son urinated on his designer suit and changed his white shirt into a yellow mess. Michonne used the excuse.

Mike isn't blind to the hints. Although, he refuses to admit his failure. A woman like Michonne doesn't come around every second. He has tried to date people between his waiting period, and those women lose every time against Michonne.

The young man has standard and ambition. She is the perfect woman to help him succeed, but she has a spawn of Satan attached to her hips. However, he will not abandon. As long as she is single, he is ready to play stepfather. It doesn't matter if he loves the child.

"The bathroom is behind that door, but you already know..." Hesitantly, Michonne responds, and the fingers, which Carl shoves in her mouth, interrupt her.

The young woman forgets her conversation and focuses on her demanding son. Mike walks away, and Michonne cares very little about where he goes.

"Mr Grimes, you don't puke on people." With a soft voice, she chastises her child.

A small frown appears on Carl's forehead, and the infant recognizes his mother's authoritative voices. The cooing and other indiscernible sounds cease. Big bright blue irises glisten due to tears production.

"Oh don't give me this look." She places him on the sofa while she reminds herself not to fall for a trick who Carl stole from his father book.

Rick influences his son's behaviours, and he can do so effortlessly because each month he spends more hour conversing with Carl. With his sobriety, Michonne thinks about allowing him physical visitation.

She no longer fears an act of negligence. Her son won't fall from anything because his father is too high to care. Carl will not end up sick because his addict father left an open box of pills somewhere. Michonne may be a bit dramatic, but those are common emergencies case with children, who drug-addicted parents raised.

"Your father prepared me for this old trick. Now, I have to clean you too." She continues to talk to her son.

Michonne focuses so much on her son, and she doesn't notice the presence of the man, who enters back to the room.

Mike stands by her left side, and he waits for Michonne acknowledgement. Unfortunately, he will not have it. Tonight, Carl offers her a new excuse. She inhales a breath of relief and smile at her son.

"You're going to be all clean, and look handsome. Aren't you? Obviously, you will be handsome like your d." She doesn't finish her sentence.

...

...

...

Michonne coughs and turns her attention to Mike, who is bare-chested. He expects a reaction, but the young woman doesn't blink or acknowledge his poor attempt to seduction.

"You should head home. I think Carl must be sick." Casually, she throws the statement while she strolls past him with her son in the hands.

"Can we have another date?" With the last strand of desperation, he asks.

Michonne takes a deep breath, and she tries to follow Sasha's advice. The young woman can't continue to waste his time. He has not an ounce of her attention. If she is bold enough to admit the truth, Michonne is slowly falling in love with Rick. It should be impossible because she is already in love with him. However, as the days pass and the best of him emerge, she can't prevent her feeling growths.

"Listen Mike..." She wants to end the little game, but he interrupts her.

"Can I have a fair chance before rejection? I have been through all the trouble and tribulation. I think you are the best woman for me and I just want a chance to prove to you that I am or could be the best man for you. Please, Michonne." He throws down all his cards.

He doesn't care if it is out of pity, but he can't allow Michonne to slip through his fingers.

"I..." Her charitable and generous nature overpowers her will, and so she nods.

* * *

Michonne knows she is irrational, but her son's tantrums are scheduled on days, where she has a date. Exasperated and lacking sleep, Michonne stares at her crying son.

"I will manage it." Sasha jumps in between the pair.

The young woman tries to grab the infant, but he starts to twist left and right. Fearing for his health, Sasha puts him down. As the time pass, she starts to share Michonne exasperation. Her little nephew intends to make the day infernal.

"Carl?" With a soft and gentle voice, Michonne tries to negotiate with the crying creature.

The young woman tries to feed Carl, but he rejects her offerings. She pushes the toys toward him, but except for a haughty sneer, he doesn't care for them. Michonne inhales and she searches for a way to pacify him.

As a pragmatic being, Sasha thinks faster. If the son is anything like the mother then the solution is easy, and Carl does favour his mother attitude. She takes Michonne's tablet and dangles it in front of the child. In Carl's developing mind, everything works by association, and the tablet equates Rick. For a second, the tears are less loud, and chubby hands rise in the attempt to reach for the magical object.

"We can't call your dad. It is too late." Michonne pulls the tablet out of his reach, and she glares at Sasha.

Now, there is no escape. There will be no end to this tantrum. Her friend shrugs. As long as the silence retakes its rightful place inside their home, Sasha doesn't care about Michonne techniques of avoidance.

"Oh, don't try it with me. How long are you going to avoid him?" With her usual bluntness, Sasha continues to brush sensible subject.

"I'm asking you to watch Carl while he talks with Rick. How is it avoiding anyone or anything?" She counters.

"I have supervised the two last calls, and I must admit some girly side of me was crushing on the perfect daddy." Sasha tries to explain her point of view.

"Now, I don't run the Rick Grimes is snack fan club, you do. I can only imagine the effect on your woman's parts, but you've to be stronger than lust. You can do it, baby girl." Her voice betrays her lack of faith.

She knows there is no way out of it for her friend.

"Listen your dad must be sleeping." Michonne ignores Sasha, and she tries to convince an infant, who has his mind made up.

...

...

...

...

As the call rings, Michonne hopes Rick is too asleep to pick up the phone. She knows it is immature and selfish, but she needs some time to recover from her new infatuation. Watching Carl and Rick interact is her kryptonite.

When the screen changes from an attempting call to the darkness of Rick's room, Michonne sighs. Her emotions are a complex mixture of disappointment and excitement. Consciously, she doesn't want to put herself in a hard position, but the languishing woman in her will be content with stolen glances at Rick.

"I'm so sorry Rick." When his confused face appears on the screen, she apologizes.

Rick brushes his tousled curls away from his sleepy face. Michonne sigh internal. Why does the heaven lack mercy for her? Does he have like a GQ model right out of bed? With her inquisitive eyes, she notices that he isn't in his room. She exhales with frustration, but it isn't her right to say something.

"Chonne?" He questions while he rubs away the sleep from his eyelids.

He tries to focus on the blurry image, and he drags his body out of bed. The bedsheets move away from his body. Accidentally, Rick offers Michonne's a good view of an old friend. She stares at his naked body, and once again, the experience results in intricate sentiments.

In a part, she wants to continue feasting on his new body and lean muscle, but she also has a thousand question. Why is he naked in a bed, which doesn't belong to him? She tries to push her jealousy and lust aside.

"Yeah..." Bitterly, she replies.

She can hide the lust, but the jealousy is powerful. It spills in her voice and rearranges her posture.

"What's wrong?" Her mood is hard to miss, and so Rick takes the risk to question her.

She hesitates, but the answer tingles the tip of her tongue. Michonne inhales another time, and her eyes continue to rest on his naked manhood. His question has many answers. Some are inappropriate.

"Your son is bullying me, but we won't interrupt your... Whatever we're interrupting. "She starts with the safest option, but her jealousy will not allow her to keep her dignity.

The words pour out of her mouth before she can analyze their meaning. Half through the sentence, she remembers her place in Rick's life. Although, it's too late.

For the exact same reason, Michonne started to avoid Rick. With each call, she noticed that they start to play the perfect family. She doesn't know how to react, and helplessly, Michonne watches herself fall in love with a man who she has loved until her heart could no longer take the burning pain.

"Carl is seven months, how can he bully you? You don't need an excuse to talk to me, and I haven't so breath, it's all yours when you want it." He teases her and rotates his camera, and so she can see around his room.

"Well, here is your seven months terror...and I didn't mean it like that," She adds with embarrassment and sits their son on her laps.

"Hello, little man." Rick greets his son, and for a second, he forgets about Michonne.

The wonderment when he faces his child or how Carl is Rick's world, Michonne can't prevent the fall. It is almost as if she faces a dream, which she long lost. She can't prevent the smile, which spread wide across her lips. Rick continues to speak while Carl is ecstatic in her arm.

Traversing the weird phase of re-burgeoning love feels like the right price to pay for her son happiness. She doesn't know the topic of their conversation, and she spends too many minutes mesmerized by the interaction to listen to what they say. She likes to allow them their privacy, and often, she becomes the tiers party, who spy on them.

"Do you miss daddy more than your mother does or does she create excuses?" Rick continues to tease her.

"I will get Sasha." Embarrassed, Michonne stands and tries to escape the conversation.

It is too familiar and too comfortable as if the young years of their love have re-emerged. He teases her, and she blushes. However, that time is forever lost, and she is unsure if she wants to recover it. The end was bitter for them. Carl is the miracle, which made the heartache worthy. Now, she has enough distance to know her love was a sort of addiction too.

…

…

…

"Chonne?" Rick calls her name to stop her departure.

"Yes, Rick?" Reluctantly, she returns to face his annoying smirk, which is less arrogant.

"Can we talk?" His tone is less soft to indicate the seriousness of the conversation.

Michonne rearranges Carl in her arm, and she hesitates. The speed of her heart rate increases. What can they talk about when they said so much?

"About?" She questions.

It appears to be the safest question to start a conversation, and Michonne isn't comfortable with every topic around Rick. Now with her growing feeling for him, the young woman becomes a lot more secretive. The metamorphose of her love for him is a topic, which she blatantly refuses to explore.

"Carl." He answers, and Michonne exhales a sigh of relief.

It is easier to talk about their son, and it's a safe subject. When it comes to raising Carl, Michonne's mind is clear. Her sentiments are a lot more blurry. Although, she has clarity and boundaries, which she didn't have a year ago? Her love for Rick experiences a rejuvenation and starts to root on new foundations.

"yes, obviously." She answers, and she tries to keep Carl on one spot.

"Please, keep an open mind." When he meets her concerned eyes, He hesitates.

For the last month with the stabilisation of his mental state, Rick's confidence in his ability to parent grew. Now, he wants more of his son. Hopeful, the young man looks at Michonne, and he doesn't believe she will refuse his request. However, he knows how protective Michonne is of Carl. In the past seven months, she everyday demonstrated it. She made sure he took each of the drug tests, which allowed him to entertain a relationship with his son.

"I will try." With a smile, which shows her willingness, she answers.

"I think this FaceTime thing is a bit inconvenient." Rick's voice continues to broadcast his hesitation.

Michonne shows patience, and she predicts where the conversation will advance. With a soft smile and an encouragement, she helps him relax. The young woman expected to have this conversation sooner, but she is happy he waited to be at his best before asking for more. Two months ago, the discussion will end with Michonne's refusal. The young woman is no longer lenient with Rick, and her growing love doesn't change most of her position.

"I know you don't trust me with him, but mom can supervise the visit. I'm working hard to keep it together. I haven't slid once. I control my anger." Quickly, he pleads his case, and Michonne's silence adds to his stress.

Although, the young woman is silent due to the child in her arms, who slowly falls asleep. She rests Carl's head on her chest, and she pulls his blanket over him. Once she finishes caring for her infant, she focuses on the father. The peaceful smile doesn't move from her lips.

"Rick, breathe." When she notices his stress, Michonne adds more comforting words.

"I don't think while you're with Carl, you need a supervisor. I trust you with our son...I do" She stresses when disbelief runs across his facial expression.

Michonne does her best not to be vindictive. Carl will never be a victim of personal grudges with his father. If there is no threat to her son safety, she will overlook her discomfort. Which she did the last months, her constant interaction with Rick created her strange new love. However, her fears to fall deeper in love never waited on the scale. Carl had the time with her father, which she could afford to give him.

"The FaceTime conversation is an inconvenience to us all." Michonne continues.

She doesn't want to witness Carl and Rick's interaction. She doesn't need to have her sentiment enhanced because she can't resist a dependable man. Although, she has no choice because of Carl. If he wants to face time his father, she complies.

"With each passing day, Carl wants to be closer to you. Carl's happiness is our priority. It is unfair to the both of you. I'm not trying to keep him away from you, and I was protecting him from real harm. I hope you know it." Michonne insists.

The young woman knows she seems to be the villain due to her firmness. If it limits the emergency visits, she will proudly play her villain role. For seven months, she stared into Rick's eyes and faced well-concealed resentment because she kept her son away from him.

Before Carl, Michonne's fear overpowered her best interest. She feared to lose Rick's love, and she allowed him to drag them down a spiral. Now, every day, she faces that fears, but Carl's safety is her priority.

Michonne ceased to be a mindless lover.

"Now, I know it. In rehab, we shared our experiences, and I was grateful. Some of the story, which I heard opened my eyes." He saves the gory detail.

Rick doesn't want to tell her about the children, who drown in their bath because of a parent too high to hold them straight or those burned in a third degree. He doesn't want to expand on the horror, but the stories don't end when rehab starts. Rehabilitation equates a mental vulnerability, which is dangerous with an infant around. Rick was irritable, depressive, and paranoid.

The mental instability associated with the withdrawal syndrome doesn't mix well with a crying child. Rick doesn't want to imagine a scenery when his uncontrollable fit of rage made him hurt his son. Perhaps, without Michonne's firmness, he will have to share a horror story. Although he understands her position, the resentment still existed.

"However, I'm no longer unstable or depressed..." With a confident voice, he pursues and tries to convince Michonne.

"I understand, and I'm trying to work on something. An alternated guard is the best option. At seven months, Carl is too young to move between continents. Perhaps, I'm selfish." She interrupts Rick, and she tries to explain her dilemma.

"Michonne," Rick tries to relieve her frustration.

He doesn't believe that she is selfish, and he doesn't want to guilt her into anything. With the clear mind, he commends her strength. Rick knows Michonne has ceased to be his gullible lover, and he loves her more for it.

"It's fine, Rick. I can wear my big girl pants and admit the flaw in my logic. I moved across the ocean, to be away from you. Now, I'm the mother of your child, and I don't have the luxury to hide from you. My son can't continue to believe an iPad is his father. If I don't need to do alone, I said I wouldn't do so. You're a good father, and parenting is an extraordinary adventure with you." Her sincerity leaves Rick speechless.

Rick knows she thinks every word, which she says. Michonne supported Rick during his hardest low. How late he called didn't matter, and she assured he could talk to his son. When she noticed any sign of depression, she would spend hours talking to him. With the exception of the physical distance between them, they have grown closer.

"I have to work on the how, but we will return home. Sasha leaves in a week. She will help to find a decent apartment for Carl and me. I have a running work contract. I will try to negotiate it, and by Christmas, I may be free."

"Christmas is a month away." The inflexion of Rick's voice doesn't convey his excitement.

It almost sounds like a complaint. A bit confused, Michonne stares at Rick.

"I can't make it faster. If I could, you will have your son in your arms today. However, I still have engagement with the firm." She counters his statement.

"I didn't mean it in that way. If you let me, I will love to have my son tonight." He corrects, and subtlety, he asks her if he can visit.

Michonne is right, and Rick isn't in his room. In truth, he isn't in America. He is consulting for a trading company in London.

"He will love it too, but you have both to learn patience. Bye, Rick."

* * *

When her door rings, Michonne drags her feet. Tonight, she has no excuse to escape this dreadful date. Carl is peacefully asleep. Without enthusiasm, she opens the door. Her greeting dies on the tip of her tongue, and she needs air.

"Oh" Surprised into shock, she whispers.

Her frown turns into a soft smile, and her forefinger pocks him to confirm his presence. For a second, she doesn't move or say anything. Michonne appraises his appearance, and her heart flutters. The rapid contraction and the blush concealed by her beautiful skin are clear signs of her effect on her. It almost feels like an enhanced crush. The young woman leans on her door.

"Interesting reaction, I was expecting a more exuberant..." When the wind in his throat stops because suddenly, she hugs him, Rick's sentence dies on his lip.

She offers him the exuberant reaction, which he asked. Her arms firmly circled Rick's neck. The impact of their bodies' collision causes a loss of balance. Carefully, Rick manoeuvres to avoid a fall. He presses her back against the door and wraps her dangling legs around his waist.

"Less tight, Chonne." He whispers.

Due to their physical proximity, his lips brush against her skin. Ultimately, the intimate touch reminds her of her posture. Slowly, she unwraps her leg and gets down. Now, she is in a worse position between Rick and the door. Rick almost presses her into the door, and the heat, which radiates from his body, engulfs her.

With his height advantage, the young man towers over Michonne's petite frame. She has to look up if she wants to talk to him, and the view, which she has of his visage, is impressive. Did he always look this handsome? His body is svelter than it used to be, but his muscles are defined. She feels them press against her body.

The five o'clock shadow, which covers his chin, enhances the sharpness of his jaw. His curls are longer, and she fights the need to tangle her finger in the gorgeous mane. She will abstain to mention the blue of his eyes because she has long drowned in them.

When she watches her body betrays her, Michonne tries to reemerge. Her mind berates her body for the embarrassment. Perhaps, she needs sex, and her body has decided to let her mind know.

"Sorry." Embarrassed, she removes her arm from around his neck.

However, she doesn't know where to put her hands. Rick continues to press her body against the door. Tentatively, Michonne looks for the doorknob.

"I didn't expect you to be here..." She stutters while she fights to resist the scent of his designer perfume, which stirs away what small of common sense that she has left.

"We had the conversation five hours ago, and you were across the sea." She continues to speak because she wants to ignore the fiery eyes, which stares at her plump lips

"Yeah, across the English channel. If you listened to my conversation with Carl, you would know I was in London for a conference and a consulting job." Ultimately, Rick averts his eyes from her lips while he speaks to her.

Although, staring into the blue of his eyes worsen the situation for Michonne. The languishment coupled with the raw need, which she finds in the silver sea that inhibits Rick's eye, has a dangerous effect on her libido. How do five minutes around Rick Grimes remind her body of needs, which were dormant for months?

….

….

….

….

"I..." She tries to continue the conversation, but Rick closes the little distance between them.

"Hmmm, you..." He tilts her chins and interrupts his sentence to recover her lips with his.

His lips softly cover hers before she protests, and the kiss corrupts Michonne. Her refrained needs resurface with burning violence. The first graze of lips is passionate. Grazing her bottom lip, Rick treasures the familiar taste of Michonne. Her lips are soft and sweet.

Rick's touch is tender, but it doesn't lack passion. Instinctively, Michonne's greedy arms circle Rick's body. Their restrained desires collide, and he deepens the kiss in response.

Michonne moans and opens her mouth. He charms his way into her mouth. His tongue darts and she braces herself for the passion, which he pours into each tongue stroke. Between kisses, Michonne tries to retrieve a glimpse of reason.

As the passion increases, the kiss becomes fiery. Passionate jousts of tongue replace the lazy stroke. Rick's hand dips lower until it reaches his favourite part of her body. With a Palm firmly pressed on her ass, he thrusts her pelvis closer to his.

Michonne's fingers disappear inside his majestuous curls. When Rick bites her lower lips and alleviates the pain with his hot tongue, she moans. His free hand pushes the hem of her dress, and he helps her circle his waist with her thigh. They continue passionately to kiss until the laws of nature make their bodies ache for fresh air.

"You have a date." He whispers against her lips

"Something like that" Still dazzled by the magic, which the contact of their lips created, Michonne answers.

The young woman assumes her clothes must have betrayed her night plan. However, Michonne is wrong. During their heated kiss, they had an unpleased spectator.

"Well someone like that is behind us, I think." Calmly, he states while he drags the hem of her dress back down.

Ultimately, Michonne glances beyond his shoulder. Her beautiful brown eyes collide with Mike's infuriated ones. She inhales, but unfortunately, Rick's rich scent engulfs her. Another reminder of her compromising position, Michonne drags her right leg down, but Rick doesn't remove the hand, which supports it.

"Rick." She chastises him, but her voice has lost all dignity.

"Healthy dose of possessiveness." He chuckles and releases her legs.

"I..." Her embarrassment steals her eloquence.

Apologetically, she stares at Mike, and she wishes he could walk away. Sasha was right, and she can already hear the gloating. Michonne should have squashed all of Mike hopes with more firmness. Although, she didn't intend for this to happen. The young woman underestimated her attraction for Rick. He knocked at her door look like a full course meal, and the flesh is weak. There is a reason why Carl exits.

"Good comeback." He continues to taunt her.

Michonne wonders how he ignores the tiers party behind him. When he leans another time, his lips graze her. Michonne understands how he does it. However, she refuses to indulge Rick's antics, and slightly, she shoves Rick away. The first kiss was a fluke, and she was under the spell of his enhanced beauty.

"I will start to work on them." She replies with an arrogance, which mimics his.

"You have been working on anything else." He teases her, and in a slow caressing motion, he moves his hands across her bareback.

To her body biggest regrets, Michonne stops his hands and places them back to his side. Ultimately, she opens the door of her house and puts some space between their aroused bodies.

"There must be a point to your presence here beyond a public embarrassment." She questions.

Rick's answer is a mischievous smile. How did she forget about his exhibitionist tendency? If she allows him, Rick will do more than a kiss, and poor Mike will need to bleach his eyes. She swats his shoulders because now, she has to cleanse her mind and erase the fantasy, which he planted there.

"Yeah," he answers and allows her to move out of his grip

"7months your clone, and professional at crying, I guess." She questions

"Can I?" Excitedly, he asks for her permission, but he already heads toward the nursery.

"Please do. I need to fix the mess, which you created." She turns to face Mike, and she can't explain his expression.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the reviews.**

 **I don't own the walking dead.**

 **I will work on the epilogue, but this is the last chapter.  
**

 **Please review.**

* * *

 **Break-up and …more consequences.**

* * *

Michonne knows her reaction is inappropriate, but she never expected such delusions. She should have abode by Sasha's advice and squashed the man's silly infatuation. She exhales, but she loses her control. The young woman laughs. No reaction can be appropriate to the situation.

"We're barely friends, and I tried to explain it to you," Michonne replies to Mike's accusation.

The young man refuses to settle for such a small apology. He walks closer to Michonne and tries to tower over the young woman. Michonne doesn't scare, and she stands her ground.

"Truly, I thought you were better than most female." He starts a tirade, which Michonne chooses to silence until the wrong words escape his lips.

"It turns out that you're a dumb bitch, who will let any man grope her in public." Voice filled with disdain, Mike spits his venom.

The contrite expression disappears from Michonne's visage. She clenches her fist, and she closes the small distance between them.

"Excuse me?" Michonne dares him to repeat each word.

The last minutes have stressed her enough, and she has no remaining patience to deal with disrespect. She tried to tell him her lack of interest by every way of communications, but he wants to cry foul now.

"Oh, you heard me right. Where is the classy woman, who parades in the office and doesn't give the time of the day to anyone? The whore, who he pressed to the door a second before you met me for a date isn't a woman I want." He continues to expose his delusion.

Baffled, Michonne stares at Mike. He can't be serious, but his firm expression confirms her fears. The young woman takes a step back, and she decides to end the conversation. Unfortunately, Mike stops her with a hand on her shoulder. Michonne sighs and rolls her eyes.

"I gave rick more than the time of the day, and my child who hates you. Although, I don't have to have to justify my intimacy with any man. It's none of your concern. I will let you know it isn't anyone who feels me against anything, and you shouldn't know. Each of your attempts failed. I blame myself for entertaining your delusion, but loneliness doesn't lead to the best choice. Now, excuse me." After her verbal assault, she stares at his hand on her shoulder.

He doesn't let go of her, and he drags her toward his chest.

"You'll apologize and review your position. Why would you lose a man like me for the like of this man?" He insists, and Michonne loses her patience.

His attack on Rick is the stroll, which breaks the camel's back. In addition, she is tired of the hand on her shoulder. Why doesn't she listen to Sasha? She will avoid many psychopaths. The young woman grabs Mike's hand and crushes it. She steps on his foot and grabs his arm. Michonne uses her precarious balance to project Mike across her calves.

"Stay away from me." She shouts over the loud sound, which the collision between the man's body and the ground creates.

…

…

…

"Well lil man, I think your mother is about to kill him and don't worry I'm a stable single father." Joyously, Rick tells to his son.

The young man continues to peep through the hole, and he observes the exchange between Mike and Michonne. It is an act of curiosity, but also a preventive measure. Rick doesn't know the man, but he assumes something must be wrong with him.

A minute before his mention of Mike presence, the young man noticed his _rival._

The second man exhibited strange behaviours. What man in his right mind will silently watch his date make-out with another man in a very indecent manner and stand there? Rick doesn't want to presume, but a desperate psychopath may fit the description.

"The wrong move." He states when Mike places his hand on Michonne's shoulder.

"He will discover your mother's violent side, and you will never believe the strength of her right hook. I don't know if my jaw recovered from the impact, but my heart never did." Rick continues to explain to his son, who doesn't care for the small talk.

"Shush, Richard Carlton Grimes. You'll give us away, and I don't want to miss the result of my handy work." Rick recovers his son's mouth, and the infant continues to let escape excited coos.

Carl doesn't care for his father's indecent curiosity, but his excitement to meet the man is unmistakable. The infant giggles and rest his head on his father shoulder. With an absolute curiosity, Carl's fingers examine Rick as if he was a new toy. His places the collar of his father's shirt into his mouth.

"Carlton?" Rick tries to chastise the hyperactive creature, but the use of his full name is a mistake.

Almost a year later, the infant continues to hate his name. Carbon copy of his eyes starts to glisten, and tears pool into his son big eyes. A soft sniff announces the tragedy. Suddenly, Rick feels guilty. Rick holds the little boy close to his heart.

"I'm sorry, Carl." He insists on the name and waits for his son's reaction.

However, the tears continue to fall. Rick doesn't know what to do when Carl starts a tantrum.

"What do you want money, a new crib, or your mommy?" Seriously, the young father inquires, and he turns Carl around. There must be a stop button. How does Michonne do it?

"Au clair de la lune, mon ami pierrot prête moi ta plume..." Rick starts to sing the French lullaby, which he used to sing to his son during the early days of his life.

For a second, Carl calms down, and he focuses on his father's voice. He picks Rick's shirt collar and puts it back into his mouth. If it means the silence and peace, Rick doesn't dare to chastise him. Half an hour into the parenting, he knows who will dominate their relationship.

Although, he doesn't matter because he intends to spoil his son. Rick continues to sing while Carl's saliva drenches half of his shirt. They are content until a loud sound outside disrupts the peaceful atmosphere between father and son. Panicked, Rick runs at the door and widely opens it. Carl starts to cry, but the infant suddenly stops. The scene of Mike on the ground steals his attention.

"Do you need my help?" Rick questions Michonne while she removes invisible specks of dust from her dress.

"He will need it to pick himself from the ground." Michonne answers and furiously walks inside her apartment.

"What you did or said was dumb or disrespectful. Try it again, and I will help in laying you down. Now, pick yourself up." Rick adds insults to injury, and he closes the door.

"I see we share the same hatred little man, and now, your mom is mad." The young man rubs his son's nose, and Carl yawns.

Too much excitement for the little creature.

* * *

Rick observes Michonne with a sort of concern. After whatever the asshole told her, he feels extremely protective of his ex-girlfriend. He regrets letting the man escape with a warning. He widely opens the door, and he enters her bubble.

"Carl is asleep." He says as an introduction, but she doesn't turn to face him.

Rick joins her under the blanket, and she flinches. The young man doesn't take the reaction as a personal insult. Rick doesn't expect the return of every automatism, which they had during their relationship.

"Did he call you a bitch?" He tentatively tries to open a conversation.

Michonne rolls her eyes at his question, but she nods. She rolls on her back to face him, and she draws closer to Rick. Although, she stops herself from seeking the embrace of his arm. Rick doesn't have her inhibition, and he crushes her petite body with a hug. They stay lock in that embrace for several minutes until she can find her words.

"It is your fault." She swats his chest, and Rick chortles.

For his insensitive nature, she swats him another time. Rick tries to avoid her slender fingers, and he continues to annoy her with his chuckles.

"If it is a consolation, I feel guilty for destroying your promising relationship." He can't hide his warm smile.

Ultimately, Michonne hugs him back. They simultaneously sigh, and the silence falls in the room. The sound of her heartbeat increases the tension in the atmosphere. The silence reveals precious truths, and she doesn't want to face them.

"I'm a hypocrite." Softly, she breaks the silence and rests her head on Rick's chest.

His fingers start to comb through her wild locks, which cover her pillow. He waits for her to expand on the subject, but she doesn't add anything else. Rick encircled Michonne in a suffocating embrace. He has no idea how much of comfort she needs now, but she needs as much as he is willing to offer.

"Maybe I led him on." She continues her introspection.

"Did you allow him to kiss you or snuggle in bed with the goodies?' The tone tries to hide the seriousness of his question, but Michonne knows him too well.

"We're an item or anything of some sort, but I agreed to multiple dates, which I never attended." She adds the last sentence without a prior thought.

"A free meal ticket, a scammer who scam." He pocks her ribs, and Michonne can't prevent the laugh, which applauds his dry joke.

"Well, a girl needs to survive. Carl finishes all my money." She jokes.

"If you took my monthly allowance, it should be easier for you," Rick answers seriously, and Michonne rolls her eyes.

"Carl is your son, and the child support covers it all. I make five figure a month, and I know it sounds like very little money to you. I enjoy my newfound independence, and I can afford my luxury lifestyle." She points at her interior designer heaven.

"I miss the smile on your face when you open a present." He replies and caresses her cheek with his knuckle.

She smiles as an answer to his confession. Once again, silence retakes its rightful place.

..

...

...

The glowing warm yellowish almost orange light continues to play and to cast the shadow on Michonne's luminous skin. Between the warmth of her body and the comfortable soft mattress wrapped in the silky bed sheet, the couple finds a sweet comfort.

Michonne stares at Rick's profile with the clarity of a sober woman plagued with the euphoria and the high of a drug, which long ago she ceased to consummate.

His curls fall in every direction as he throws his head back to laughs at her jab at his new beard. The twinkle of joy in his eyes and the view entrapped her.

She looks at him with the same inquiring eyes, and she brings her hands to his face. Michonne places her nose against his nose, and she looks deeply into his eyes in search of the truth.

"I missed you." She confesses, and he understands how long she has languished to meet this side of him again.

Rick kisses the centre of her palm, and he kisses the tip of her nose. Her skin is magnificent so up close, and he notices the cutest details. When his lips touch her skin, Michonne pulse slows down while her pupils dilate. She is sober, but she can't fight the growing intoxication. Rick Grimes is a powerful drug, and she continues to be an addict.

Michonne can no longer resist it, but she can't extricate her mind from the situation. The scene lures her in a sort of familiar comfort. She wants to resist the call of her hormone, but the warmth of his body pressed to the side of her shivering arm promise comfort and haven. Michonne inhales and it is a mistake. She opens the path for further intoxication. It is a sensory assault. He smells like a man, her man.

Michonne knows how wrong it is, and worse she does not want to have the stupid moment end. He nonchalantly sighs, and a beautiful smile graces Rick's lips. The young woman abandons reason, and she presses her lips to Rick's one.

….

….

….

They continued passionately to kiss until the laws of nature command their bodies to ache for fresh air. Deflated lungs scream for air, and she wants more of her ex-boyfriend. She kisses between gulps of fresh air.

They quickly shed their clothes. Michonne steps out of her underwear, and she presses his fingers between her inner thighs. Rick's fingers run between her thighs and tease the slit of her labia, which her feminine juice now drenches.

His thumb rubs her clitoris, but she aches for more of him. Michonne watches when he pushes a thick finger in her wall. When he burns her senses with every touch, her body continues to aches for more of him. Rick's finger fucks her until raw cries overtake her quiet moans.

The young woman slides down and stands on four. Michonne's mouth licks the precum from the tip of his dick, and she swallows part of his length. Her eyes lock with an entranced Ricks. Amber fire consumes a boiling ocean.

His moans are small praising sounds or loud begging prayers. Michonne continues to take his length up and down while his adoring eyes morph into an aflame ocean. Michonne experiences his adoration, and this is a new level of intoxication. She is his goddess on her knee and basks in his praise and prayers to her glory. Her mouth takes every inch of his dick, and her eyes imprison him in a trance state.

"Slower..." He stuttered when she sucks on a sensitive spot.

His voice resonates like a weak plea. The young woman loosens her jaws and sucks on his dick. Rick pulls her locks until sharp pain attacks Michonne's scalp. The sounds of her gagging throat fill the room, while she continues to swallow every inch of his manhood. He can't resist the impulse and moves his hips forward. She coughs, but she doesn't stop.

"Sorry, baby." He caresses her cheek with his knuckle and leans to recover her lips with his.

The kiss is passionate, and he pulls on her lowers lips. His tongue caresses her upper lips after each bite. They tongues circle each other like the fiercest matador circles the strongest bull. He steals her air until her pink lips are blue and bruised.

Once again, she wraps her free hand around his erected dick. She takes him all in and slowly releases every inch. He loses his eloquence, and Michonne is the only coherent word in his vocabulary.

Pleading blue irises continue to watch his beloved bestows fire upon his soul.

"Fuck." He curses when her tongue rolls on the tip of his dick.

Slowly at first and then faster, his dick slides on her tongue. Between few choking sounds, she swallows more until her lips kiss his balls.

With their eyes lock into a spellbound embrace, the fall from the edge is overwhelming. His body collides with a wrecking wave of lust, and his groan intensified her pleasure. She starts to caress her erect nipples, and slowly, she drags her hand down to her aching chore. Her finger runs faster on her pulsating clitoris, and she inserts a finger in her burning core.

The image of her in a brisk of an orgasm while she pleasures him drags Rick to the edges. He closes his eyes, and white lights flash behind his eyelids.

"Fuck" Rick tries to remove his dick from her mouth before he ejaculated.

"Feed me." She purrs between slow lick of the tip of his penis. Michonne continued to suck on his dick while he ejaculated. Her fingers fondle the sensitive balls, and he comes harder.

Her hand ran up and down to milk the last drop of his essence. With a salacious smile, she licks the remaining semen of his dick.

...

...

..

Eagerly, Rick grabs her hand, and he put her lubricated fingers in his mouth. He lifts Michonne to change their position, and automatically, her legs framed his hip. His penis grazed her vagina. In symbiosis, they moan, and Michonne slides her hand between their bodies. The eager young woman grabs Rick's impressive manhood. Agilely, she twisted until she lined the head of his penis with the entrance of her vagina.

With the most care, he creates a path of open-mouth kisses from her lower abdomen to her perky breast. His lips covered her mounds, and he sucks on her nipple until the sound of her cry echoed inside each of their apartment. He grabbed her thighs and wrapped them tighter around his waist. Delicately, he sucks on her erected nipple and pinches it, and his free thumb grazes the sensitive bundle of nerves between her inner thighs.

B dedicatedly he worships her body. Soft lips pressed against her nipple and fingers, which glistens due to her feminine juice, continues to sink in her warm wet core.

"I love you." The words leave her tongue before she conceives the thought.

Devoted to her satisfaction, he didn't notice her fiery brown eyes on him nor ear her confession. When her legs trembled, He continued to reach deeper into her with his fingers. He nipped on her stiff nipple, and the pleasure consumes Michonne. She cries his name until her voice became a broken hoarse sound.

When the powerful orgasm sends Michonne's body into a tonic tremor, Rick's' dick replaced his finger at her entrance. His stroke is shallow and fuels the power of her orgasm. It sends her into a second one.

"Ride me, babe." He presses his lips on her earlobe.

He seizes a hand full of her ass and drags her ass over his hardened manhood. With a hand on her waist and another on her ass, he gives a new rhythm to her hip rotation. Her gyration become slow and matches the shallow thrust of his pelvis

Michonne presses her lips to his with endless passion, and suavely, her tongue massages his with lazy stroke. Rick's warm fingers graze the shivering skin of his thighs. Slowly, he caresses inch of bare skin. Rick's pushes his dick deeper into her, and she is so tight.

His soft lips burn her clavicle, where he lays small open mouth kisses to soothe the ache between her legs. Rick's tongue darts for a taste of her glowing skin and run along the curvature of her swan neck to the beautiful perky bouncing breast.

The young man curses and slows down for both their sake. Rick reverses the position and places her thighs around his shoulder. He allows her to adjust around him, and the ecstatic cries refill the room. Rick's strokes are slow and tortuous. He hammers her wall with every deep stroke.

Tender at a time and rough in the next second, Michonne's body sings praises of Rick's dick. Her moans are an ode to the glory of his stroke. Her legs tremble, and sheer coat sweat makes her body glisten.

"Oh fuck... oh... please." her mind isn't cohesive, and her body continues to seek more of her dick.

Legs tightly wrap on his bare ass, she gyrated her hips to match his thrust. With his thumb and forefinger on her chin, he lifts her face and locks their eyes into a voodoo charm. So many words in the strong blue of his irises and she understands his love. His mouth assaults her erogenous zones until her plea for more become soft whimpers of satisfaction.

His left-hand start to fondle her erected nipple while his right thumb presses and rubs her clitoris. Slowly, Rick picks up his pace. Her nails dig scars on his back, which he proudly acquires.

The undulation of their hips is a harmonious pasodoble to a tempo, which they perfected through the years. Sensual and suave movement of hips increased while Rick struck her pulsating core. He emphasizes the rotation of his hips. Each time, he grazes her G-spot and presses her clitoris. She cries his name, and her nails dig deeper into his back. He senses how close she is to the deep end.

"Come for me." He whispers while his hot breath caresses her feverish skin and cools it down.

She stared into his loving blue ones. Their emotional connection strengthens through their lovemaking. He hits her wall harder and deeper, and Michonne continues to lose herself in the adoration, which brightens the blue of his eyes.

She hung on the cliff, and the waves of pleasure reclaim her body. Rick intertwines their fingers and rests his forehead against her. With care and dedication, his dick continues to extinguish the fire of her passion. He kisses her tenderly and smiles against her lips.

His mouth burns a path of kiss along her neck and stops at her earlobes. She dangles above the abyss of pleasure.

"You're mine forever." He punctuates his sentence with an excruciating deep thrust.

"I'm yours, babe," she replies without a thought.

Rick pushes deeper inside her and recovers her mouth with passion. His manhood fills her core. He swallows her moans between every chaste peck on her lips.

His tongue duels hers in a fiery Andalusian corrida until they need air.

"I love you." Ultimately with his last stoke, she falls in a sweet petite mort.

Michonne caresses his cheek and falls asleep.

...

...

...

The morning is a different affair, and she hides in her room the entire day. Michonne can't face Rick nor herself. She doesn't know how it moves so fast from a friendly conversation to passionate sex. She is not ready for the change.

"I'm tired of your excuse." He whispers but it is a loud shout to her guilty ears.

"Our son isn't your shield nor your excuse to justify your cowardice. You don't protect him from me. You use him as an excuse to keep your resolution." She hears him, and she has no response to the truth.

Sex with Rick Grimes was a mistake. Michonne Barnes is a recovering addict, which fell for a familiar high. Although, this time it felt close to epicurean pleasure.

It takes her two weeks to get over her discovery, and when she does, Michonne packs her suitcase and she leaves Rome. An ocean isn't a protection, and it only slows the withdrawal.

* * *

 **2 Weeks later**

…

… **.**

 **In about thirty minutes, we'll land.** Reluctantly, Michonne texts Rick.

His words didn't leave the young woman's mind, and she may need to reevaluate her moral ground. Old resentments controlled Rick's tongue, but he told her no lies. Michonne chose the immature behaviours over an opened-heart conversation, which could have advanced their relationship.

She knows it is a responsibility, which she must take. Michonne bound her young life to her relationship with Rick, and she used it as an excuse. Now, she uses motherhood as a shield against the same relationship. Although, she has fragile walls. When the opportunity presented itself, she fell in his arms with minimal resistance.

Michonne tries to organize her mind before any contact with Rick, and she knows he will try to pick up the conversation from where they stopped in Rome.

Admittedly, she is unfair to Rick. Conceivably, envy commands her sentiment toward him. During the last year, the young man evolved into a better version. A night of passionate sex sullied her growth, and she doesn't know who deserved her anger. She fears to probe the resentment of her failure. Certainly, her resentment accelerates the festering of their relationship.

Expectantly, she stares at her phone and waits for an answer. Michonne's heart palpitates, and she slowly inhales. The young woman leans to kiss the crown of her sleeping infant.

 **I'd pick you up.** Rick answers with a firm statement.

He tries to hide his excitement. Rick learns from his previous mistake, and he knows a subtle approach will help him to break her shielding walls. Any brutal attempts will make Michonne shut down. The young woman is secretive about her pain, and he caused most of her hurt.

 **Hmm...** He receives the text, which represents her hesitation.

 **I remember where home is.** She texts him, and she notices her mistake.

 **Your house, I mean.** Michonne corrects her statement to avoid a misunderstanding.

The young woman stares at the plane's lit roof, and she smacks her forehead. What is wrong with her? Home? Since she abruptly left the place, Michonne didn't return to Rick's apartment. Although, her Freudian slip is revelatory. Nothing feels more like home than a place, which she shares with Rick.

 **My house?** Now, Rick couldn't hide his excitement.

A simple question carries so much pressure. Michonne doesn't know how to react. She doesn't want another remake of two weeks ago event, but Carl and Rick need their time together. The young woman sighs, and Rick's words echo in her mind. Their son should not be an excuse for her weakness. The young woman needs some time to figure out her future with Rick. She needs some time to reestablish a relationship with him, but the type of relationship has little values.

 **You understand what I mean. Your house or the apartment.** Michonne replies and she wants the conversation to end. After a year, Michonne didn't lose those automatisms of her young life spent with Rick. She knows it is futile to hope for an end. Michonne sighs before Rick sends his answer.

 **My house is no longer uptown, and it is too loud for a baby**. **When your plane lands, I'll pick you up**. Michonne snorts at the arrogance of his answer, and the passenger next to her looks at the young women with slight confusion. She shakes her head to reassure her son, which emerge from his sleep.

 **Mom can pick me up, and you can enjoy your day**. Her answer is too fast for Rick's liking.

When he reads her rebuttal of his proposition, he frowns. For the past two weeks, she succeeded efficiently to do avoid him. The closest contacts, which she allowed to have with her, were monosyllabic texts messages. With their new situation as parents of a young infant, it is abnormal to maintain the radio silence, and so Michonne worked around restrictions. Nothing changed for Carl and Rick, but he missed Michonne's presence.

….

…

…

 **Are you trying to avoid me?** Already aware of the answer, Rick asks the mother of his child.

Frankly, yes and you make it hard. The young woman chooses honesty.

After their previous conversation, she understands the importance of honesty with Rick.

Chonne? He adds the shocked emoji to punctuate his feigned offence.

Do you expect me to go along with it? I made my intentions clear, and you can't continue to play the ostrich. He sends another text, which roars his frustration.

Rick sighs with exhaustion, and he looks at the clock. Fifteen minutes until Michonne's plane lands and Rick's heartbeat becomes irregular. To say that their situation worries him is a euphemism, and they have so much changed. Although, they are the same young couple in love. She complicates the situation, but he believes in their love.

 **I want to think about us**. She answers, and she leaves him little space to force his wish on her.

In the last year, she learned firmness, and she maintains her position. However, Michonne continues to fear her lack of resolution. The night, which she spent with Rick, is not a moment of weakness. It is an informed decision, but the young woman lacks the bravery to admit it. Michonne believes Rick tested the strength of her resolution, and as a masochist, she jumped in bed with him.

 **How is he?** Rick chooses to talk about the safest subject in their lives.

Bringing Carl up is not innocent from Rick's part, and she knows it.

 **Leave him out of this, and he isn't a weapon, which you can use to soothe me or worse.** Michonne plainly points out.

As he read, a smirk falls on Rick's plump lips. She knows him too well for someone, and he can't lose such a mind symbiosis.

 **If I remember correctly, it worked last time.** The worse happened, and we're fine. A winking emoji closes his sentence.

 **How is he?** After mocking Michonne, Rick inquires about his son.

Rick can picture the redness, which creeps under the rich skin of her cheek. He laughs at the thought how so often she is a prude.

 **The alcohol worked just fine, and Carl is not mean to get into my pant**. **Didn't we have this conversation**? The young woman chastises Rick, who sends her a series of laughing emotions as an answer to her rant.

 **Carl is a result of my success at it.** He adds a sassy answer.

"Your father." She talks to her son and rolls her eyes.

Why does she continue to entertain him when she said everything, which she wanted to say?

 **He is grumpy, and it's his first flight. I can deal with the grumpiness.** Michonne turns to face their son, who decided to halt his agitated movements. Carl trades the giggle for cries. Michonne inhales, and apologetically, she looks at the closest passenger to her.

She checks on her watch, and she becomes impatient. Ten minutes before she lands in Atlanta, her heart threatens to shatter their bony prison. The young woman missed her home, and she can't stop twisting in her wide first-class sofa. She will be home, and she is happy that Carl will be able to call this beautiful city home too.

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 **How long you plan to keep your lil ban going.** Rick returns to the previous heated topic.

 **It's not a ban, or it ceased to be one**. Michonne corrects him and questions herself on the exact stand, which she wants to take.

 **I want to understand our new situation.** The young woman answers.

Michonne tries to open up. After years of personal censorship, brushing out the sensitive topics in their lives is difficult. They have grown, but it isn't enough to grow out a flaming old love. Michonne is unsure of where her needs meet Rick's wishes.

 **A year-long, how much time do you need? We love each other. There isn't much understanding to do.** Rick replies.

He deserves to reunite with his family. The young man made effort toward this future. Consequently, when the object of his desire is the obstacle, Rick's frustration increases.

 **We loved each other a year ago, and it didn't stop anything from happening. Why is it wrong if I want to be sure**? She questions him and matches his frustration.

 **A year ago, you didn't love me, Chonne.** Rick replies, and Michonne eyes redden while she reads his bold statement.

She stands from her seat and runs inside the toilet. Michonne wants his accusation to be verbal and not bright words on the screen. She calls him. When Rick answers, she doesn't waste any time.

"So what was I doing? Playing house with you and worrying sick for a man, I didn't love." Michonne tries to control the anger in her voice, but she hears her failure.

"You spent the last years of our relationship in love with an old version of me, and what I was supposed to be. Both men weren't me, nor I'm the same man. Now, you're in love with me, but you refuse to let go of a resentment. You don't want a better version of me or a past version of me. You're in love with me, Rick Grimes addict in rehabilitation, father of your child, and flawed individual. Although, you don't want another fantasist version of me." With matured knowledge of their relationship, he answers.

For a second, Michonne allows his words to sink in her mind. She admits her truths. A chuckle, which sounds like a timid cry, escapes her lips. The air hostess' voice resonates inside the plane, and she has to cut their call.

The young woman returns to her seat and buckles up. The plane screen starts to show Atlanta below them, or to be correct it shows the tarmac of the airport. Michonne's heart gallops faster. Her choice becomes a reality, which she is unsure.

"A few more minutes, and you will able to get off this plane." Michonne tries to convince Carl, who extends his arms for a lift.

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From the moment Carl catches the sight of his father, he tries to escape his mother's arms. Michonne sighs and she starts to scan at the crowd for his face. Anxiously, her eyes wander around, and she looks for his curled mane.

The young woman anticipates the strong heart palpitations, and her semi-nauseous state is a normal consequence of her sentiments. Michonne waits for her heart to spring out her rib cage. However, she doesn't expect the stupid tears, which his thumbs clean away from her delicate skin. She mocks her ridiculous reaction, and a soft laugh replaces her tears.

Her body begs for his touch, and under his thumbs, goosebumps appear on her skin. A year later, she is in love with him, and the familiar pain has disappeared. The time apart didn't dull their passionate love, and now, it burgeons into a healthy balance.

Michonne doesn't always have to be the wise one, and Rick has the strong shoulder, which can support her. On her part, distance and time help to strengthen her maturity.

Michonne stares at Rick with a hint of wonder in her eyes, and physically he hasn't changed much. The same piercing blue eyes, which haunt a soul, though their warmth engulfs her soul. Entranced, she allows Rick to pick Carl from her arms. Now, with her free hands, she frames his face, and Michonne inhales. It can be the wrong choice, but her heart only knows how to beat for two men, Carl and Rick Grimes.

"You're a better version of any fantasy of you, which I can conjure." She punctuates her words with a soft kiss on his lips.

Rick doesn't question his luck, and he deepens the kiss.

"Everything is different," Rick whispers against her lips, and he enjoys her primal reaction to him.

From the shivering skin to the beating of her heart, which synchronizes with his heartbeat. Everything changed for the better in a year, but some things were the same. Rick continues to kiss her before Michonne attempt to counter with an intelligent answer. He has not done it in two weeks, and the last time when he kissed, he sensed her hesitation.

Today, only her love pours through each tongue stroke, and like the night two week ago, Michonne answers to his caresses with the same passion. Ultimately, she is home in his arm. She does right by the promise, which she silently made to him in this same airport. Michonne's fingers sneak below his collar and searches for the familiar cold metal. She pulls out his neckless and retakes her engagement ring.

"I love you." Rick kisses the crown of Michonne's head and Carl's forehead.

"I love you too, Rick Grimes." She replies with a little taunt to his previous statement.

Coincidentally, Carl claps his hand after his mother answer. Rick laughs at his son enthusiasm, which echoes his own. Michonne kisses Carl's button nose, and she caresses Rick's cheek.

"Let's go home."


	7. Chapter 7

**I was reminded that I promised an epilogue so here it is**

 **i don't own the walking dead**

 **please review**

* * *

 **Epilogue** : **The beginning of a lifetime together and …consequences.**

* * *

Carlton Richard Grimes feels sick, and he doesn't know why his daddy forces him to wear the thing around his throat. However, he doesn't like it, and he can't breathe. Consequently, he tries to remove it. He pulls until the little thing is crooked. He continues to pull, but Carl remains unsuccessful. His dad glances in his direction, and he doesn't look very happy.

" Carlton Richard Grimes, leave your bow tie alone." His dad sternly says.

Carl's eyes redden, and tears pool in the rim of his lower eyelids. Frustrated, he crosses his arms, and he furiously glares at his father. He hasn't been naughty why does his father feel the need to use that name. He can't hold it, and the tears fall. He can't wait to tell his mom how his dad was mean to him. Carl glares at his father between tears, and he imitates his mother's stern look.

"Oh…no…no… your mother will kill me. Carl, I'm sorry. Hey, don't cry, buddy. I didn't mean it," Rick abandons his task and run to his crying three years old son.

"daddy is mean," Carl says in frustration, and now, he wants his mother. " I want my mommy..." The tears continue to poor while Rick fusses around Carl.

Carl wanted to be around the big boys, and last week, Rick said that Carl was a big boy. He wanted to look like his daddy, but Carl doesn't like the thing around his throat. He can't breathe, and he is the only one wearing it. The big boys are wearing the long one.

Carl attempts to pull on his bowtie, but Rick stops him. Rick sighs and he wonders why Carl chose today to be difficult. Rick sits his son on the hotel's bed, and he rubs Carl's back to calm him.

" I'm sorry, and I didn't mean to call you Carlton. What is wrong, buddy?" Rick tries to soothe his son.

Rick looks at his complex and capricious son, and he regrets no taking Michonne's offer. He doesn't need the extra stress. Rick has never felt so stressed in his life, and an extremely cranky Carl won't help the situation.

" I can't breathe." Carl dramatically pulls at his bowtie, " I'm dying, daddy." He finishes with his usual slurred speech.

First of all, Rick needs to know where he learned the word dying. If Michonne has started to read him those crime novels again, he will have a long and serious conversion with her. Rick is not ready to share again his bed with Carl.

" Carl, don't pull on your bowtie. I will fix it," Rick gently says, and he starts to adjust his son's bowtie, "Is it better now?" He demands when he finishes loosening the bowtie.

" I don't like it," Carl says between a new outburst of tears. "I want daddy's one." He starts to pull on Rick's tie.

Rick closes his eyes, and he says a quiet prayer. Carl and his antics won't give him an aneurysm. He really should have let Michonne handle it. Rick thought it was a great day to have a father and son's bonding time, but he didn't think about his son's tantrum. Rick is so used to quiet and polite Carl that he forgets his son's age. In the most important days, Carl reminds him how difficult a three-year-old can be.

" Daddy's one is for when it is your turn to be married." Rick runs with the first excuse that he can find.

Carl sceptically stares at his father. He doesn't know what to be married means, but his daddy is always right. Somehow comforted with the thought that he will one day have a thing around the neck like his daddy's one, Carl regains his jolliness.

"Okay…"

….

….

…..

Carl hasn't seen his mommy the entire morning, and he is tired of hanging around the big boys. He looks at his father, and he looks so beautiful…handsome his mother will say. Beautiful is for the mommy. Although, Carl thinks his daddy is beautiful just like his mommy.

Carl can't wait for his turn to be married. He will have a tie like his daddy and a black suit with pants. He will look just like his daddy, handsome. Now, he has that choking bow around his neck and shorts. However, his daddy told him that he looked dapper. Carl doesn't know what dapper means, but his daddy was happy. It must mean beautiful for big boys.

Rick turns to look at his son, and he offers him a gentle smile. Carl smiles back, and he pulls on his short. Carl sits on the hotel's bed and dangles his feet. He looks around the room, and his uncles Daryl and Shane are having a grown-up argument. He misses his mother, but he loves his daddy.

" daddy, I look like you when my turn to be married." He asks with a hopeful tone.

" You will look better." Rick answers his son, and he places a kiss on the crown of Carl's head, " You will look ten times better."

Carl is so excited. His mother told him about weddings, and he has an important job to do. He has to carry the rings. Carl looks at his father, and he is tired of waiting. He wants the wedding to start, and he wants to dance with his mommy.

There is a knock at the door, and Carl stops thinking about weddings. He looks at the door, and his aunty enters the room. His aunt is the prettiest aunty in the world. She is wearing a baby pink dress. Carl helped his mommy pick the colour of the dresses.

" Sasha?" Rick greets Sasha as she comes to sit by Carl's side.

Carl looks at his aunt Sasha, and she is so beautiful. Carl blushes, and he has a little crush on his aunt Sasha. She is always so sweet with him, and she calls him her favourite nephew. Sasha is Carl's favourite aunt. Carl leans to rest his head against Sasha's arm.

"my little man is bored." Sasha asks Carl, and he nods, " Don't worry, it is about to get fun." She drags Carl in the small hug.

She frees him, and she glances at the rest of the people in the room.

" Now, boys, you know why I'm here." His aunt Sasha says with her serious voice, " Give me a minute with the man of the hour," Sasha finishes with a sweet smile.

Carl watches the room empties itself, but he doesn't leave. His uncle Daryl kisses his aunty Sasha on the lips. Disgusting, his dad also does that to his mommy. Carl doesn't understand the adults. They are so disgusting. His uncle Shane kisses his aunt Sasha's on the cheeks, and he ruffles Carl's hair. Carl prefers uncle Shane to uncle Daryl because he doesn't kiss his aunty Sasha on the mouth. Although, Carl likes uncle Daryl too.

"I'm all yours, Sasha," Rick says with a small smile to hide his stress.

" Relax, Grimes. We're no longer on hostile terms, but I have to play my bestie role to the fullest extent," Sasha stands from her spot on the bed, and she cleans the invisible dust on Rick's shoulders.

Carl watches his aunt and father interact. He intensely stares to the pair. His aunt has a small satisfied smile, and his father is slightly sweating. Carl knows his father finds his aunty Sasha scary, but his aunty Sasha is the sweetest aunty.

" I don't think I have to make threats or issue warnings. You know everything that I'm willing to do for Michonne, and burying you alive is hardly a fit. Therefore, I will settle for giving some advice. I will need you to continue doing what You're doing now, which is to keep her happy. I need you to keep her as happy as you have done for the last three years. No one deserves happiness like Michonne does. Grimes, you are lucky enough to be the love of her life, and I hope you are smart enough to be grateful for it. Now, you're doing a great job, and I'm proud of you." His aunty Sasha tells to his father, and she kisses his father's cheek.

" I can manage to do that," Rick replies.

Rick is less afraid, and he hugs Sasha. They had a rocky relationship, but Rick can never fault her for watching Michonne's back. In his fourth of sobriety, having Sasha's blessing shows how far they have come.

" Now, let's go, my little man. I heard you have the most important job today." Sasha says to Carl, and she extends her hand for him to take.

Carl proudly stands, and he takes Sasha's hand. He glances the last time to his dad. Carl gives Rick a bright smile.

" You look beautiful, daddy." Carl genuinely says in awe.

Beautiful is the highest compliment anyone can receive from Carl. Only two people so far have been graced by that compliment, Sasha and Michonne. Coming from the greatest achievement of his life, Rick feels a swell of pride. He is speechless, and so he hugs his son tightly.

" Bye, daddy," Carl says as he leaves with Sasha.

* * *

Carl stares at his father in confusion. The entire crowd is quiet, and his mother is walking down the aisle at the arm of his father's papa. Carl's grandpa also has an important job to do at the wedding. He is giving away Michonne. Carl doesn't know why they need to give his mommy away, but it is important.

Therefore, Carl concentrates on his mother and his grandpa. His mother is so beautiful. She looks like a princess, and he can't wait to tell her that she is the most beautiful mommy in the world. Carl looks at his mommy walk, and he feels so happy.

Michonne's white dress grazes the soft path of white orchids. Her trail follows behind her, and she has to tell herself not to run to Rick. At the first sight of him standing at the altar anxious, she feels her heart swell with happiness. The break-up, which started this sinuous path to happiness, seems so far.

"I'm glad we can finally make it official. My little girl is taking our name. You look gorgeous, and he is lucky to have you." Rick's father tells Michonne when they finally reach the altar.

" You take good care of her, son." He shakes Rick's hand.

Michonne's fingers graze Rick's one, and she smiles from ear to ear under her French lace veil. Rick's hand covers Michonne's one, and he intertwines their fingers. He has been waiting for this moment since she said yes.

" I love you…" They simultaneous whispers to each other.

Carl looks at his daddy, and he doesn't understand why Rick is in tears. His mommy told him weddings were happy events, but since his mother stood at the door in her magnificent white dress, Rick hasn't ceased to cry. Carl looks at his grandma for explanations.

"Those are happy tears. Your daddy is so happy that his body has to let it out in the purest form. When you love someone the way that your dad loves your mommy, you have to express it. " His grandma says, and Carl doesn't understand everything.

However, he is happy that his dad is happy. He is happy that his daddy loves his mommy because his mommy is beautiful and amazing. Carl looks at his mother, and he feels happy too.

Michonne looks like an angel. The sun illuminates the crystals encrusted in the lace of her gown. She is glowing, and Carl believes that it is because his mother is magical. She creates people too. She is creating one right now in her stomach.

" look, mommy is beautiful and magic." Carl points at his mother, and his grandmother agrees.

* * *

Finally, the time for his important job has come. His grandma straightens his bowtie, and she combs his hair. Carl peers through the door to see what is happening outside. The boring man is still talking to his mom and dad.

" Now, you're going to be careful with this." His grandma tells him as she puts a pillow in his hands.

The two shiny rings are in the middle, and Carl feels how important his job is. He straightens, and he concentrates on his task. He carefully walks until the altar while impressed sounds accompany him. He looks up to his mommy.

Michonne stares at Rick, and the priest's words sound so far. His smile and his tears are beautiful. His sudden timidity when he starts to say his vows. This moment doesn't erase the heartaches, but it valorizes them.

" I'm quite not good with words, and you know it better than anyone does. It is unfortunate that I lack the eloquence to tell you how much I love you. Although I can't write a sonnet to your glory, I strive to show how much I love you. Chonne, I know how painful it feels to lose you. Chonne, I know how lucky I'm to love you. Therefore, I try to lean on these two experiences to keep me grounded because I never want to lose you. I never want to lose the happiness, which you bring. I don't want to miss your smile or that beautiful laugh. So I promise that I work hard not to be an idiot. Although, I'm stupidly in love with you. I promise to cherish you in health and sickness. I promise to stay with you in wealth and poverty. I hope and know that only death will tear us apart." Rick finishes with a wide grin, and he picks the ring to put it on Michonne's hand.

Carl hears people clap around him, and he excitedly claps. His mother is holding tightly on his father's hand.

Michonne takes a deep breath, and she tries to put words on how she feels. She looks into Rick's eyes, and she knows what she wants her vow to mean.

" I love you, and I never want to unlearn how to love you. We have had our growth journey, and it is reassuring to know that I will age with you by my side. We're going to raise beautiful children. You're going to infuriate me beyond reason. Yet, every day I will be grateful to have my best friend by side." She leans to take the ring from Carl, but her son has something to say.

Therefore, he demands that she stands at his level. Michonne crouches, and the guests in attendance laugh. Carl stares at his mommy, and she is so beautiful.

" Daddy is happy that is why he is crying," Carl says, and Michonne has to hug her little angel.

She picks the ring and slides it to Rick's finger. Carl loves weddings, and people are happy. His mommy looks like an angel, and she glows. His daddy is beautiful…handsome. Although, adults are disgusting. His daddy is kissing his mommy on the mouth.

* * *

Carl loves the party which follows, and he likes to watch his mom and dad dance. Although, his mommy cannot dance for too long because of the monster growing in her tummy. Aunt Sasha told him that the monster in his mommy's tummy is a baby brother. Carl doesn't know what a baby brother is, but he likes the monster in Michonne's stomach.

Sometimes, he kicks to say hello. Carl can't wait for the monster called baby brother to come out, and he hopes it is as happy as a wedding. His parents are being disgusting and kissing on the mouth. His dad makes her mom spins around the room. His mommy happily laughs each time.

Carl runs to his mom and dad. He wants to dance with his mommy. He pulls on the dress, and Rick gives away his place. Carl takes the hand, which Michonne extends for him. He follows her step on the dance floor, and he happily laughs when she spins him around.

Carlton Richard Grimes loves weddings, the monster growing in his mommy's stomach, and his happy parents. Although, he is happy that his dad has stopped crying. Rick joins his wife and son on the dancefloor. He places Carl on his hip and together they make his mommy spin and laugh

 **The** **end**


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